Never Forgotten
by chichirichick
Summary: AU Yatori. Yato is practically a street urchin, raking in what little dough he can from odd jobs that no one else wants to do. Can a fateful encounter with Hiyori in the park be the little break of luck that he needs in his life? Rating subject to change as the fic continues.
1. Incident in the Park

Since my attention can never stay in one place, I offer you a Noragami AU fic because heaven forbid I finish my Soul Eater fics. But, really, what's cute than Yatori?

* * *

Yukine had once called him the _Patron Saint of Oddjobs_, but Yato preferred the title of God, insisting that Yukine use it on the odd occasion that Yato actually brought enough money home to fill their bellies or cover their head for the night. Those days were few and far between. Except, Yato was always sure that there had to be a break in his luck, a day when all the stars align and everything happens for a reason and all that other mumbo-jumbo that those late-night motivation speakers tried to sell you. There was no way that his life could actually be this meaningless.

So, he took every odd job that came his way, always a jack of all trades, from watering plants for people on vacation to alphabetizing DVD collections to regrouting tile to cleaning CPR dummies. That last one had been both interesting and terrifying, those giant, nondescript, life-less human replicas definitely starring in one or two of his nightmares afterward. Surprisingly, though, he'd gotten a little bit of an extra payment at the last job, the instructor that hired him offering to certify him free of charge for CPR and AED training. It's not like that was something he ever thought he wanted to do, but having the ability wasn't going to hurt, right?

But that turned out to be the first flap of the butterfly's wings, creating an eventual hurricane that would turn Yato's life a full 180. Because as he was walking aimlessly through the park, you know the one close that high school were kids like to skip to take lunch, waiting for the next phone call for the next job, a sudden scream cut right through him, a name that he would later swear he'd held in his heart his whole life.

"Hiyori!" A young woman with red glasses clutched at what just looked like a bundle of cloth falling to the ground.

When it hit the ground, Yato saw the spill of brown hair cascade across the pavement, the creamy-white of her skin as her face lolled to the side lifelessly. A shockwave zinged from the pit of his stomach to his heart and without even a thought in his mind his body moved for him, practically sliding into the young woman's unresponsive body. His mind finally caught up as he was repositioning her to lay on her back. "Her name's Hiyori?"

"Yes! Are you a doctor?" The bespectacled girl was kneeling next to him, grasping Hiyori's hand.

Yato didn't bother with an answer, shaking Hiyori's shoulders, limp and malleable like a doll's. "Hiyori!" His hand slipped to her neck, trying to find a pulse but getting nothing but clammy and cooling skin under his fingers. He held his breath as he angled his head to look at her chest, noticing the absence of motion. "Call 119," he tried to speak as calmly as possible to the girl in glasses. A second girl standing there, taller with light brown hair caught his attention, "You, go to those stores nearby, see if they have an AED."

Both girls gave an affirmative but Yato was barely conscious for that anymore, focusing now on how the hell he was going to actually going to go through with this. Those dummies are one thing, but this is a fragile, beautiful, breathtaking - _OK, calm down, dummy._ _You know this. This is your moment._ He placed his hands firmly on her chest and started compressions.

* * *

When Ami called her name it had felt so strange like she was hearing it echo in a tunnel. When Ami crouched down and grasped at her hand, it was even weirder because Hiyori still found herself standing there, looking at another colorless Hiyori collapsed like a doll on the pavement. She looked at her hands, the skin still rosy from the cold, and told herself it had to be a dream, that ghosts are see-through, but something told her that body there wasn't breathing, that body wasn't working. Maybe it would never be alive again.

It was her name that snapped her out of that spiraling nightmare, but from the lips of a man, someone alien but at the same time sounding like a call home. Hiyori moved to crouch beside him, her hand reaching out for the black hair that seemed to shine blue in the afternoon sun, finding her hand found purchase but her touch didn't seem to affect him. A few inches more and she could see the icy blue eyes and the terror in them, more so than just a man afraid he was watching a life slip away, but it was as if he was envisioning his slipping with it.

He had to know her, Hiyori reasoned. The way he said her name, that care and need in his eyes. He knew her, and she had to know him but there was a blank, a black screen that seemed to partition away that thought. Even though he was touching the other Hiyori, she could almost feel his hands kneading into her heart, a pronounced thump in her own chest every time he pushed. The man stopped, giving her heart a moment of relief, but leaned in. When he pinched that Hiyori's nose, she couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness, but then he tipped the chin, firmly planting his mouth over those lips she had looked at in the mirror a thousand times.

Hiyori's cheeks blossomed with color, her hand coming to her mouth as if she could taste him there. Her first kiss! Ok, so maybe not a kiss, more giving lifesaving breath, but his mouth was the first to touch hers and she didn't even know his name. But that warm glow washed over her again that she did _know_ him, somewhere, somehow. His whole self was leaching into her body through that breath. He was familiar. He was part of her. He was…

* * *

"Yato…"

It took every muscle to stop him from flying back, his hands still falling from her mouth and chin to his own lap as if to protect himself. He had just finished another round of breaths when there it was, his name softly released from her lips like a lover would after a long kiss.

Hiyori's eyelids fluttered, revealing a sparkling magenta that he instantly couldn't tear himself from, finding himself still teetering closer to her as if to give her that real kiss.

"Hiyori?" his voice felt small, incomplete, and he felt drained of everything with the dread that he might never hear that soft voice say his name again.

"You saved me." Now his breath was gone as her shaky hand reached up to his face, her fingers grazing his cheeks, awakening a tendril of euphoria deep in his chest.

Yato found himself leaning into her hand, using one of his to cover it, to keep it there and allow that sprout in his chest to grow. But it was cut short as the emergency services seemed to press him aside, trying to shoulder him out. He tried to keep those rosy eyes in his sight, catching glimpses as the EMTs moved her from the ground to a stretcher. The group seemed like an impenetrable fortress and he suddenly started to wonder if all that fate stuff was bullshit, but _no_ this was it. This had to be.

He scanned the crowd, finding the tall girl and glasses girl huddled together. "You're Hiyori's friends, right? Where are they taking her?"

The glasses girl eyed him suspiciously but tall girl offered up with little thought, "Probably her dad's hospital, the Iki family hospital."

Yato didn't stop to emote his immediate feeling of victory or even a thank you because those heavy ambulance doors slammed behind him, reminding him that time was not necessarily on his side. The run there was not an easy one, leaving him wishing that odd jobs actually funded things like bikes or cars. Thoughts scattered through his mind that by the time he got there she wouldn't remember him, it would be a fleeting moment that didn't matter all that much in the scheme of things. No one knows the pizza guy's name, you know?

The way she had said his name felt like it echoed through his whole body and he was sure that if he didn't hear it again, he would die, waste away and melt into anonymity. Out of breath, sweating, but still high on pure bliss of a simple moment, Yato arrived at the hospital. He did everything he could to pull himself together, but the desk nurse didn't exactly seem to be buying that Yato could add 2+2, let alone save a girl using CPR. She did, thankfully, excuse herself and get up from her seat, disappearing behind two swinging doors.

Waiting was like having his guts slowly extracted through his nose. He saw a face come to the glass, one that he could swear he'd seen, maybe one of the EMTs, but disappear after a second of eyeing him. Finally, a middle-aged man with a soft smile and chestnut hair appeared through the doors, raising a soft hand to Yato. "I'm Iki Takamasa, and you're the young man who saved my daughter."

"Yes, sir," Yato suddenly felt like he was on an interview, his spine going rigid as he remembered his posture. "And I was really hoping, sir, that I could see her if you don't mind that is if she's OK-"

"We're all thankful for your intervention."

Yato heard the big _but_ in his reply, just like always. _You're being erased. No one wants to remember your name._

"Hiyori just needs to rest now. But I'm more than capable of thanking you in her stead." Takamasa shuffled through the pocket of his white coat, finally taking out a checkbook. "Now, I hope you'll accept this and consider the matter closed."

Yato turned gaze to the floor as Takamasa scribbled, crescent moons starting to form in the palms of his hands as his fists drove his nails in the flesh. _Closed. Case closed and none of your jack of all trades bullshit matters. Some god you are._ The writing stopped and the slip of paper hovered under Yato's gaze. _Take it, it's the only good thing you're going to get_. "Thank you, sir." One fist unclenched and plucked the check as if it were soiled, trying to keep it from touching his hand. Yato crumpled it into his pocket.


	2. Chance Meetings

This one's pretty long. Enjoy the build-up!

* * *

"Look at all those zeroes!" Yukine snapped the paper of the check again, rolling back on the floor. "And just for some mouth to mouth?"

"Yeah." Yato should have been as excited as his only friend, but he just couldn't get the reverberation of her voice out of his mind.

Yukine pushed air through his lips, "OK, spill it. What's wrong with you?"

"It's nothing." Yato moved from the floor to the window, leaning out into the night air. It was another night crashing in the attic at Kofuku and Daikoku, but with $10,000 in paper, it was looking like the last time they'd have to. So he should be happy. Elated. Off the wall. Instead, he felt like there was a snake coiling tighter around his heart with each beat.

"You saved a kid's life, Yato, and got paid for it! Like, really paid. How are you not happy?"

"It was a girl," Yato muttered to the sky, thinking that Yukine might not even hear him.

Yukine instantly sat up, "Like a woman? I thought you were talking about a kid."

"She's probably just finishing high school." He tried to remember her uniform, but it was kind of a blur, the winter weather probably leading to its obscurity anyway.

"So what?" He paused for an answer from Yato but received just the chorus of crickets from the window. "Don't get all fairytale on me, Yato. She's not some fair maiden that awoke from a kiss and there's no way in hell you're some handsome prince!"

"I just… I want to see her again." _And I want her to remember. Why is that so important?_ He clenched a fist and dug it into the sill, hoping that pressure on his knuckles could relieve some in his chest.

"Well, from the sound of it, her dad didn't exactly want a vagrant in a tracksuit seeing his daughter again, so…" Yukine had expected Yato to cut him off, to pick a fight, maybe even a firm elbow to the skull, but nothing. Yato sat there and just stared, causing goosebumps to rise on Yukine's neck. "Come on, Yato."

"Just… go give that check to Kofuku, will you? I don't want it."

"All of it? Are you serious?" Yukine clutched the check like a lifeline.

"Yeah," Yato hung his head, sending his fingers through his hair. "Tell her it's back rent."

* * *

Hiyori had tried.

First, it was her father. Takamasa seemed more than happy to offer up the information that, yes, there had been a young gentleman who had assisted her in her time of need, but was that really what was important right now? Weren't exams looming? Did she get enough rest that day? Was she feeling anymore drifting symptoms from that attack in the park? A wall of questions built to protect the precious information she wanted.

Second, she went to her mother. This she approached with a little more finesse, waiting until Saturday when her mother always allowed herself more than one glass of wine. Not to mention, Hiyori had just so conveniently stopped by _La Chocolate Box_ and picked up her mother's favorite champagne truffles. She softly and with just enough curiosity asked her mother, who with chocolate in one hand and wine in the other seemed the closest to heaven, about whether or not Father had mentioned the boy who had saved her life. But even with all her usual tactics in use, the best that she got was that he had not just been at the park, but had followed her to the hospital, supposedly running the distance.

Third, in a last-ditch family effort that rarely produced solid information, she had called Masaomi. Her brother sometimes got a good scrap from her parents every now and then, but teasing them from him was like trying to thread a needle in the dark. "Masaomi, please. Neither of them wants to talk about it!"

"Maybe there's a good reason. And maybe obsessing over it isn't good for your health. Did they even figure out what that episode was?" He was nervously fiddling on the other end of the line, the shuffling of papers scratching through the phone.

"No. Even Dad said it seemed like a once in a lifetime thing." Hiyori shrugged even though he wasn't there to see it. It seemed impossible that whatever sickness it had been was not her prime concern but instead that man with the bright blue eyes pushed any thought of that away as if his existence negated any malady she could have.

"So let's keep it a once in a lifetime thing by forgetting about some mysterious man who may or may not have saved your life. Didn't that CPR crack a couple of your ribs, anyway?"

"Just one," Hiyori groaned through an eyeroll.

"And he took the money Dad offered. That seems pretty low."

"Dad… Dad gave him money?" Hiyori's grip tightened on the phone.

"Well, you know Dad - thank-yous always come in the form of cash, but from what I heard it was a chunk of change. If he was a good guy would he really take that?"

_Do good guys not need money?_ Her mind whispered back but her throat stayed stuck. _But if he meant to save me, why take money for it?_ She let the conversation dwindle into meaningless pleasantries before her brother made some excuse to get off the phone.

Finally, it was Ami and Yama, who were practically known worldwide for supplying information as long as you involved parfait. Gloom was starting to hang over her like a cloud as it seemed that the only thing they could give her was information on was what she already knew - while his fashion sense might be questionable, his eyes were breathtaking, his face filled with a constant intensity that made every moment feel like it was important.

"He was _weird_," Ami added emphatically. "And he wasn't even a doctor or anything and just rushed to help. I wonder what he even does."

Yama tilted her head, her finger coming to her chin. "Wait… doesn't he look like that guy from the fliers? Maybe that's why you think he looks familiar." Yama turned to her school bag, shuffling through months worth of paperwork. Amongst the graveyard of discarded worksheets and woefully marked tests, Yama pulled out a flimsy dogeared paper. "I thought I kept one!"

Hiyori secretly blessed her friend's borderline hoarding behaviors as she took the flier. A snort of laughter erupted from her throat, causing her to clamp a hand over her mouth, as the paper unfurled to show that man poised like an Idol, complete with a peace sign and Cheshire cat smile. Even in black and white those eyes caught her, drawing her into his face with a longing that made her feel like breathing underwater. Her eyes flicked to the print. _Yato _and a number. She could… she could just call him.

* * *

It's not technically stalking if everything you can find is simply public knowledge on the internet. Or that was the story Yato was sticking with.

Iki Takamasa, head of Iki Family Hospital, to host the 20th annual Hospital Charity Fundraiser. Black tie only, and the plates probably cost as much as Yato's hush money.

Instead, Yato decided to do what he did best, handing his number out to the catering company, the serving agency, and even the janitorial staff, leaving it to the luck of the draw. It was the serving company that called him first and after a pretty convincing referral from Kofuku, who after that lump of cash was more than happy to speak on Yato's behalf, Yato was at least legally allowed on the premises for the evening.

This all banked on her actually being there, something that Yato considered a slim chance, but one nonetheless. It was a slim chance he'd have learned CPR, a slimmer chance that they'd be at the same park, so why not believe that maybe she would be at the party and hopefully not having another cardiac episode long enough for him to just hear her speak again.

* * *

Hiyori laid on her stomach, holding the phone in one hand and the flier in the other, balancing her fate. She absolutely could call him. But what would she say? _Hey, I'm that girl you saved and I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since then. It's not just that I want to say thank you, but it feels like I know you. Like I was always with you. When you breathed into me it was like you were giving me a part of yourself and now I'm carrying it. Happily._

She pressed her face into the bedspread, trying to erase the heat and color in her cheeks. As if she could say that to him. One, that was amazingly creepy, two, she was just cruising for rejection, and, three, she was…

The door popped open, her mother sticking her head in. "What are you doing still in bed?"

"I, uh," Hiyori stumbled over her words, cramming the flier under her pillow.

"The Gala is in an hour! The car will be here in thirty minutes and you're not even dressed?"

Hiyori always gave into her mother's events, often turning herself into a doll that her mother dressed and positioned throughout the night, but the thought that she could be alone at home without any eyes on her, that she could call him and maybe even convince him to come to the _empty_ house. "Mom, about that…"

But her mother was already out of her doorway, leaving her with a shout from the hallway, "Please, Hiyori, get moving already!"

* * *

"You look… wow." Yukine couldn't even bring himself to make the usual joke about penguins or etc. as Yato attempted to straighten his bowtie for the ninetieth time, his face seeming to gray from lack of oxygen with all the shallow breaths.

"Am I an idiot?" Yato let spill from between his teeth.

"Well, yeah," Yukine shrugged, putting a soft hand on his shoulder. "But I don't necessarily think you're an idiot for _this_."

"She's not even going to be there, I know it." Yato wanted to rip the choking fabric from his neck and dig himself into the futon until he forgot about those eyes like pink sapphires.

"Your stalking is usually pretty fruitful, so I'm pretty sure you'll get the opportunity to make a fool of yourself in front of her again." Yukine opted for pinching his cheek instead of messing with his hair, another process that had taken hours in front of the mirror.

"That's all I can hope for, Yukine!" It was like he didn't even hear Yukine or even himself, the stupid, glowing smile flooded his face.

Yukine sighed deeply, a hand coming to his forehead, "I pray this girl has patience."

* * *

Hiyori allowed her mother's hands to smooth over her one more time, straightening lines invisible to her, setting hair that once again wasn't out of place. In a small way, it was calming, since Hiyori didn't exactly feel comfortable at this level of formal. It had taken argument up until the car arrived for Hiyori to leave the house with her hair down and now swept into some ridiculous up-do that rivaled something from a wedding. But there had been no argument about the dress that her mother had specially ordered.

It was a distinct change from last year, ditching any taste of adolescence to make her look the part of a grown woman. The lilac fabric draped over her shoulders, drifting into a surplice neckline, exposing almost more than was comfortable. The waist was taut creating a definite hourglass at her hips, drawing attention to that shape with delicate appliques of moonflowers that twinkled as if covered in dew. Hiyori feared that any swift movement could mean either a slip out of the top or a pop at the waist. Neither of those possibilities sounded like a fine addition to the evening.

But fast moves were not part of the game plan. Hiyori was used to the part that she had to play, to be a statue unless she was required to shake a hand or laugh playfully at another doctor's jokes, which were usually too involved to understand. She found the perfect location, only a few steps away from the refreshments but still with access to a fairly clear path to a heated balcony that could offer an escape that she was sure she would require at forty-five-minute intervals. Now, if only someone could make those minutes move faster than a snail's pace.

* * *

This was Yato's third trip back in the kitchen. Eavesdropping had earned him the information that the head of the family was decidedly late, excused mostly by the assumption that his daughter was still not feeling well. Yato wondered if scouring hospitals for her wasn't a better plan of action, now sure that she was languishing somewhere in a sickbed rather than at some fancy party. _If you thought this was a chance for you to pick her up on your white horse, then you are an idiot._ The growing idea that this was now just a night of work started to choke him more than the bowtie and as he exited the kitchen he found himself not so gently nudging out the door.

The eyes of the vast majority of the oligarchy seemed to only give his extra noise a passing glance except for one particular pair that shone like rubellite. The tray teetering in his hand was the only thing that Yato could steady, finding that the rest of his body was thrown out of equilibrium with the sight of Hiyori's eyes widening, her mouth falling open as her hand instinctively came up as if to reach for him even from across the room. With a blink, she seemed to snap herself back, that rising hand turning into a weak wave.

Yato remained frozen but took a step closer to her direction, the tray, the kitchen, the party itself falling into a backdrop. He watched as her eyes trailed the room for a second before the wave became an obvious stop sign. A distinctive crack began to run through his heart but slowed as he watched her change the stop to a wandering finger that touched gently at her cheek as if to point to her eyes. It was then that her eyes rolled, her head only slightly turning. He followed her gaze and found it settling on the balcony which was still empty, the party still young enough that no one needed air just yet. With a gulp, he brought his eyes back to her, completely unprepared for the smile that she was obviously struggling to keep small.

He nodded at her, sure that he had never wanted to kiss someone so badly in his life.

That thought sent his face to a new shade of crimson before he moved his way through the tables, trying his best to scratch each drink order onto his pad. By the time he made it to where she had been standing, Hiyori was gone, launching a fresh wave of anticipation because he knew she'd be out there and she waiting for _him_, not getting air, not avoiding the party, _him_. He dropped the drink orders at the bar before tucking his tray under his arm, forcing himself to slow his walk to look close to casual as he veered off the path back to the kitchen and forced himself through the curtain that obscured the entrance to the balcony.

He stepped onto the tile just in time for her to turn, the silky fabric of her dress ruffling subtly at her shoulders. During the exchange with their eyes he hadn't the time to really look at her, but seeing her now made heat creep up his spine. The juxtaposition of the picture he had of her in her winter wear to the exposed curvature of her body now made his mouth go dry and his voice sizzle out.

"Yato!" Hiyori clamped a hand over her mouth, the exuberance of her call putting their meeting in danger of being noticed.

"You remember me," and no amount of mental negotiation could stop the tears.

* * *

Oh, why did she call his name so loudly? Hiyori was ready to shrivel in embarrassment when the shock of his face made her emotions sweep away. He was crying. Granted, he was doing a great job of trying to hide it, subtly trying to cover it up under the guise of fixing his hair but there had been tears. Her hands came up out of pure instinct as she moved to decrease the space between them. She wanted to use those hands to comfort him, but the thought of that made her fingers tremble. "Of course I remember you."

"Ah, How are you feeling? You look… you look beautiful." That hand that so nonchalantly smoothed his hair slipped to grip the back of his neck. "I mean, you don't look sick. You look fine. Well, great."

_Beautiful_. Hiyori pulled her arms back attempting to cross them at her chest but finding that gave her lift more than modesty. Worse yet, his eyes seem to dart over her as she did that, definitely catching the show before his sight seemed to fall overwhelmed to the floor. "I, um, feel great. Nothing's happened like that since you… since you saved me."

"It was nothing," he managed to stammer out.

"No, it wasn't!" Without thinking her fingers grasped onto his jacket. "I wasn't alive. I really wasn't alive until you…" _Oh, no, you're in creepy territory, sounding like the failed-before-it-started phone call._ But she couldn't unlock her fingers, finding them dug into his lapels.

One shaky hand hovered over hers and she could see a fight waging in Yato's eyes as if the ice there was threatening to melt. "Hiyori, I…"

"I don't want you to think what you did was meaningless to me. I know my father, well, he meant well, but I know he chased you off."

"Yeah, but I…" The hovering hand fell, but not on hers, just lifelessly at his side.

She could see the shame starting to tighten his jaw. "I don't care about that, though. I want you to, um, I'd like it if…" Hiyori reached into the front of his apron, grabbing the pen and paper that he'd just used for orders. She scribbled quickly, only pausing to look over Yato's shoulder for a moment, seeing a face shifting through the curtains. "My number." She forced her hand into his, pressing the paper into his palm.

He turned the paper over in his fingers as if it were the first time he'd touched such a material. "I can call you?"

"Well, texting is probably better, more talking with less opportunity for eavesdropping." This was one of the few exhilarations that she had missed out on as a younger teen, and it made her scalp tingle to think that she was breaking the rules.

"You want to talk to me?"

Her forehead wrinkled. "Yes, unless you-?"

"No!" Yato jammed the paper into his pocket, a grin that risked becoming a beaming smile starting to tug at his lips. "I'll text you."

She saw the brown haired, green eyed young man finally emerge onto the balcony. He tapped at his wrist, sending Hiyori's heart pounding. "I have to go." But neither moved, each set of eyes memorizing everything about the other. A throat cleared behind Yato, breaking Hiyori from the spell. She couldn't stop herself from brushing past him, wanting to have one last second closer to him, and found herself enveloped for just a moment in his intoxicating scent, like fresh rain with a touch of vanilla to warm it. She had to catch herself, holding onto some last inch of sanity until she got to Kazuma, who stood waiting, or perhaps guarding, the entry to the balcony.

"Was that…?" But Kazuma didn't bother finishing his sentence. One look at her face could tell him she was completely somewhere else.

* * *

Yato untied his bowtie, unbuttoned his collar, and reached the soft flesh of his neck, feeling the sharp pain when he pinched it between his fingers. Not dreaming. Totally real. His other hand fished into his pocket, feeling another piece of reality, the sheet of paper which, when unfolded, displayed the right number of digits in the most delicate handwriting he'd ever seen. He took a sweeping glance of the balcony, it now completely empty except for him, and let out a yelp of a laugh.

He'd done it.

He was successful.

She remembered him.

She _wanted_ to remember him.

And she _wanted_ him to talk to her.

Could he stand spending the rest of this party with her gliding around, looking perfectly unattainable? Could he avoid bumping into her just to get another rushing breath of her scent, something like plum blossoms, as their shoulders met as they had just now? Absolutely not. He could barely stand here in place, feeling like he could, that he had to run a mile just to drain an ounce of the excitement from his body.

So Yato forgot the party, even if it meant being blacklisted from yet another industry. It was just below ankle-breaking height, so Yato opted for the heroic jump from the balcony, which would have probably looked cooler if someone had actually seen it. He checked the number again as if it would disappear from his pocket and opted to clench it in his fist instead.

So how soon is too soon to text? And what do you say to the girl of your dreams?


	3. Proposals

I don't understand why I can't write anything other than this particular fic. Enjoy.

* * *

_"Hey!"_

Delete, delete, delete, delete.

_"Hi"_

Delete, delete.

Yato let out a trembling exhale, pressing the phone into the futon. It was 2 AM, which meant doing this now was insane in itself, but Yato couldn't stop the compulsion of bringing the phone to his fingers, typing something that was always the stupidest thing he could say, and then deleting. As he collapsed for the twentieth time, his face suffocating in the futon, he felt the phone slip from his fingers, jolting him back to reality.

The screen illuminated the blond boy's face. "_Hiyori, it's Yato_. There, easy, done, sent."

"Yukine!" Yato scrambled to get up but Yukine plopped the phone back in front of him, the chat bubble floating on the SMS screen.

"Now let me sleep! I'm working at the store tomorrow and if Daikoku catches me sleeping he'll skin me alive." Yukine grumbled between a yawn, stretching himself back onto his futon. "And turn it on silent. I don't want to hear buzzing all night."

Yato did as he was told with a withering sigh. "It's not like she's going to be up anyway." But just as the screen went black it popped back to life in his hand.

* * *

Hiyori had taken the liberty of putting his number in her phone as soon as she had gotten back from the Gala and could fish the flier back from underneath her pillow. After those kinds of events, it was usually easy for Hiyori to drift into sleep, exhausted by hours of social interaction as if it were a marathon. Instead, she found herself in bed, staring at the phone, scolding herself with the old saying that a watched pot never boils. As the clock ticked away she was just about to get up to wander the house when the screen popped with light and color. _"Hiyori, it's Yato."_

He made it seem so easy and Hiyori struggled to find words, her thumbs hovering over the screen. "_Hi! You're up late…"_ The exclamation point seemed overkill, but Hiyori hit send, not allowing herself to overedit.

_"Can't sleep. How about you? Hope I didn't wake you."_

She rolled onto her back, the phone not half as bright as the smile on her face. _"Nope. Awake too. Are you OK?"_

_"Today was too exciting to sleep."_

Hiyori let the phone slip from her fingers, her own words in a jumble from his. She felt the buzz against her chest again and tilted the screen back up.

"_I'm glad I got to see you."_

That was the problem with text, the look on his face, the way his eyes lit up, went unseen, an addition that she found herself acutely missing. _"Can I see you today too?"_ The logistics of this were completely out of her grasp, but it didn't seem to even be a flutter in her mind.

"_Yes."_ the answer pinged almost immediately.

"_I'll come to your place?"_

* * *

Yato's heart had already been running a marathon as soon as her _hi_ came through but the thought of her coming here, the idea of not his place but Kofuku's attic sent it thundering at an unimaginable pace. He got that her place was off-limits, but why not a cafe? Or the mall? How could she possibly want to be alone with a guy like him?

His pause must have had her thinking since a second message popped up. _"I know it's weird, but I'll explain tomorrow."_

_Well, hopefully, she's ready for more weird, because that's what it's going to be here._ Yato tapped the address into the screen, forcing himself to hit send as soon as he was done. He'd spend the rest of the night awake, alternating between reading her texts and wondering how he was going to get Kofuku and Daikoku to be anything close to chill.

* * *

Hiyori had only slept a few hours, just long enough for it to be a decent hour to call Kazuma. He answered with as much morning enthusiasm as he could muster. "Hiyori, everything alright?"

"Of course!" But that was too quick, too loud, and she feared giving away the whole thing. "I was just hoping that you could do me a favor today."

"What do you need?"

"Just a ride to a friend's, that's all."

There was a pause and the sound of a heavy exhale of breath against the phone. "This friend wouldn't happen to be the one from last night?"

"Well, yes," Hiyori found herself childishly crossing her fingers.

She could guess he was adjusting his glasses right about now, the tell for his reaching peak exasperation. "I'll pick you up at 2."

* * *

While Daikoku had no choice since he had to watch the store with Yukine, Kofuku still refused to vacate her house, an incoming guest or no. To the contrary, Kofuku was busy adorning the table with fresh flowers, some specialty tea, and assorted snacks all of which Yato was not allowed to have.

Yato's phone buzzed in his hand, the message he'd been dying for finally appearing.

_"Here!"_ followed by a smile.

The door couldn't open fast enough and he saw her at the end of the walk, bent over at the car window discussing something with a young man in the driver's seat. Yato tried to hold onto his calm, everyday smile, but he could feel it flexing into one of those stupid grins that stretched from ear to ear. Hiyori finally turned, sending a soft wave his way, breaking his control over his face.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner. My ride," she motioned back towards the car that remained idling.

"Does he want to come in?" But Yato's attention wasn't even on him, his eyes following the way the crisp air put color on her cheeks and blew her hair into tendrils trying to take flight.

"Oh, no, he said he'll stay there, but I can only stay for a little bit, so…" Hiyori shifted on her feet, her eyes glancing over Yato's shoulder.

"Stupid," Yato said under his breath, jump-starting his social skills. "Sorry, come in." He backed into the wall, giving her just enough space but still allowing himself to be close enough that her coat, full of that floral scent, brushed him. "I'll take your coat?" Yato's hands automatically moved to her shoulders, ready for her to shrug the coat off.

"No, it's fine." Hiyori placed a soft hand on one of his but jumped as a voice hit her from the next room.

"Hello!" Kofuku boomed melodically, no longer having any patience to wait for them to move from the hallway to the sitting room.

"Hi!" Hiyori yelped as she came face to face with stunning purple eyes framed by a tumble of bubblegum pink locks.

"Uh, this is Kofuku. She's a, uh, family friend."

"And you're at my house," Kofuku winked, taking Hiyori by the hand and pulling her from Yato's grasp. "Come on, I made you tea and snacks!"

Hiyori threw a helpless glance back at Yato as she was tugged away, settled next to the table, a wide array of treats arranged in front of her. "Wow!" The shock of being grabbed into a strange house can always be dissipated with enough snacks.

"But Kofuku was just going, weren't you?" Yato glared from the doorway, unsure of whether he was going to take the risk of sitting down yet.

"No I wasn't," Kofuku batted her eyelashes, taking a seat across from Hiyori.

"To help Daikoku and Yukine with the store?" Yato offered again.

"Nope!" Kofuku winked at him before moving to pour the tea, being so kind as to even leave a cup for Yato.

"Who are Daikoku and Yukine?" Hiyori's eyes traveled from Kofuku to Yato. When her sight settled on him, she patted the floor next to her, noticing him stuck at the door.

"Daikoku is my husband!"

"I thought he preferred partner," Yato grumbled as he allowed himself to be beckoned by Hiyori. Somehow, she didn't seem fazed by Kofuku or the surroundings, feeding back into Yato's smile which blossomed regardless of his tone.

"Well, he's stuck with me either way," Kofuku shrugged. "And Yukine is… uh, what is Yukine?"

Yato used his sigh to cool his tea. "I guess I'm his guardian?"

Kofuku snorted.

"Really?" Hiyori raised an eyebrow. "How old is Yukine, then?"

"Uh, he's probably fourteen now. Looks it, too." Yato cleared his throat, not sure how to steer the conversation.

"Oh, he's a teenager," Hiyori blinked, obviously trying to process the situation. "You said he's working though?"

"No, not really, just helping out Daikoku. We haven't been exactly stable and we're just crashing at Kofuku's for right now…" Yato looked to Kofuku for help and found her sipping her tea, squishing a mochi between her fingers.

"Are things… complicated for you?"

Another snort from Kofuku's direction and Yato resists the urge to cram the mochi down her throat. "No, it's totally fine, just I guess you can say we're between apartments. I'm working towards getting us settled around here."

Hiyori seemed very interested in her tea and Yato really hoped the leaves at the bottom were at least spelling out good fortune. She finally lifted her eyes to Kofuku, her voice quivering. "I don't want to be rude, but would you mind if I spoke to Yato alone for a moment?"

Kofuku blinked before stuffing another mochi in her mouth, talking through the chewy dessert. "No problem! I'll go, uh, refill the tea!" She slipped off towards the kitchen, but not before making sure to send a wink Yato's way.

* * *

Time was slipping through Hiyori's fingers. "I should really go, but I promised," she felt like she needed more air in her lungs to say this, "I said I would explain."

"What is it?" He knelt close to her, their knees now touching.

It was those stupid eyes that made her mouth tremble without words, eyes so filled to the brim with concern for _her_, just some stupid girl off the street. "I'm not allowed to hang around people. That guy who brought me, he's the only one right now and that's, well, that's _complicated_."

"You're not-" Yato cut himself off, but the meaning still lingered between them.

"I don't like him that way," Hiyori sighed at her own lack of eloquence. "And he's actually, well, he tells me all the time about how he likes this-" She silenced herself, gliding a hand over her face. "It's just my parents. I don't want to upset them, but I do want…" _I want you_. _Ugh, no, this is not a romance novel! And you literally just met him and Kazuma said there are things about him… _"I want to try to still see you. I can't imagine it'll be easy and maybe it won't even be that often but I want to try."

"Hiyori…"

The panic spiked that he might cry again, spurring her words into a jumble. "I'm sorry if it sounds crazy. We just met, you don't even know me, but I want to at least be your friend."

"Friends, yeah, OK," came out of his mouth as one breath. "I want that, too."

* * *

"Yatty! You have a guest!" Kofuku's voice exploded from below, holding the _a_ for as long as humanly possible and causing both men to jump out of their skins.

"Is it that girl again?" Yukine was asking Yato as much as he was asking himself, still processing the fact that a girl had called let alone visited Yato, and that visit didn't end with a slap in the face.

Yato didn't hear the question so he didn't have the ability to reply, having rushed for the front door as soon as _guest_ came out of Kofuku's mouth. But the face staring back at him silhouetted in the thick dark of the night behind him wasn't the one that made him think his heart would explode.

"Yato, correct?" The brunette young man extended a hand towards Yato, his other hand shoved tightly in his suit pants.

"Yeah," Yato studied the hand before giving in to the shake. The guy might not look like much, but at least his grip was firm, his green eyes seeming to be running calculations with each pump. "You're that guy that drove Hiyori here."

"Perceptive," his voice had the tone of a researcher categorizing a new species. "Please, call me Kazuma."

"OK, Kazuma."

Kazuma's eyes wandered around the room, brushing past the table where Kofuku tried to look like she was minding her own business. "I was hoping that you and I could discuss some business."

"Look, if it's about Hiyori, I-"

"Not directly." Though Kazuma cut him off it wasn't drenched in the rudeness that Yato was accustomed to, but instead seemed to give the impression that Kazuma didn't like getting off task. "I heard that you were hireable. I tend to perform, well, rigorous checks before I make those kinds of decisions though and was hoping you'd sit to hear my proposition."

"Upstairs, then." Yato waved an arm back towards the stairs, waiting for the suited gentleman to start ascending. He was slow to follow, the thoughts starting to crowd his mind. How much had he wanted that to be Hiyori again? Too much, and now just the thought of this guy, who she had described as having a _complicated_ relationship with her, giving him an opportunity to see her even indirectly was making his stomach loop in on itself. Yato finally propelled himself forward, remember Yukine waiting for this new guest at the top of the stairs, hoping the kid wouldn't do anything-

"You're Hirano Kiyotsugu!" Yukine's voice erupted, bordering on a fangirl squeal.

"Ah," Kazuma glanced over his shoulder at Yato whose twisting guts finally got him to the top of the stairs.

"_The_ Hirano Kiyotsugu!" Yukine went to a haphazard pile of magazines, tossing some aside until picking the holy grail of magazines, displaying the cover with religious zeal.

"Well, yes," Kazuma's hand came to the back of his neck, trying to rub away the anxiety.

"This is Yukine," Yato pointed to the smaller blond boy as he snatched the magazine from Yukine's white knuckles. "And you're _not_ Kazuma, then."

"I prefer Kazuma. Sometimes people only recognize a name and not a face, so it's safer to give one that doesn't exactly turn heads." Kazuma sighed, slipping off his suit jacket to deal with the growing heat of the small space and the burning request. "May I?" he motioned not exactly to a seat but a spot on the floor, since the attic was filled with mostly boxes and the two throw away futons that acted as emergency crashpads.

"Be my guest." Regardless of this _complicated_ relationship, Yato found himself actually struggling to dislike this guy. "But what's the big deal?"

"He is _the_ _creator_ of Chōki, like the biggest private securities and risk analysis firm," Yukine shot at Yato with a familiar voice of exasperation. Yato had heard this almost constantly when it came to this tech stuff that Yukine was into. "How do _you_ know Yato?"

"As I said, it came to my attention that you were hireable."

"We're hireable," Yukine chimed as Yato pushed him to sit across from Kazuma, sliding next to him.

"But I'm guessing he needs answers to a few questions first." Yato met Yukine's eyes, those blue eyes turning to ice to cool the conversation, causing Yukine to lean back against the wall, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

"Yes." Kazuma laid his jacket neatly next to him on the floor, taking a moment to run his hands down his thighs to smooth his slacks. "It's rare that I can't figure out everything I want to know about someone on my own, Yato, but I'm finding you hard to unravel."

"There's nothing to unravel." Yato forced his tongue back from wetting his lips, instantly knowing that Kazuma was watching every micromovement.

"I'm guessing you won't be forthcoming until I lay out my hand." Kazuma reached back to his jacket, taking out what appeared to be a woefully understuffed folder. As he angled it towards Yato, he caught sight of what he never wanted to, clearly written on the tab _Yaboku_. "I know who you are. What I can't figure out is why the son of such a man is living off the streets doing odd jobs that mostly include things like cutting the lawn for pensioners."

"This discussion is _over_," Yato growled, his legs catapulting him to his feet.

Kazuma only blinked before turning back to the folder, opening it. "I can only make the assumption that you've _cut ties_. Odd jobs mean no paper trail, no way to pinpoint a location, so it would be harder to find you if someone wanted to."

"I said this was over. Trust me, you don't want to piss me off." Yato's knuckles blanched from the clench of his fists.

"An affirmative is all I need, not an explanation." Kazuma cleared his throat, his eyes slowly moving from the paper to meet Yato's. "If you're worried that I told Hiyori, I didn't."

His anger dissipated into a tendril of smoke, Hiyori's name saturating his rage. He could feel Yukine tug at the leg of his tracksuit, those amber eyes grounding him and making him breathe again. Yato's eyes swung back to Kazuma as he collapsed back to his seat with a huff. "Yeah, OK, I _cut ties_ as you call it."

"And I'm to expect that you won't be reversing that decision."

A bitter laugh gurgled in Yato's throat. "_I _won't, but my father's another story."

"Understood," Kazuma's eyes drifted back to the paper, but Yato seemed to think he wasn't reading, he was thinking, crunching people like data on a spreadsheet. Kazuma touched at his tie as if he were going to loosen it but let his hand fall back to his lap. It struck Yato as out of character, relaying a nervousness that was previously well below the surface. "And the money, from Hiyori's father?"

"I took it. So what?" The shame started to creep up his neck and Yato adjusted his scarf, unaware of the way he mirrored Kazume from moments ago.

"Technically," Kazuma cleared his throat. "But it seems that the check was written over to a Kofuku Ebisu."

"Come on, a guy like me with a bank account?"

"Well, yes, but it was never converted to cash. Kofuku still holds ownership."

"I guess I'm having her hold onto it for a rainy day." Yato's grin was crumbling at the edges.

"He signed it over as back rent," Yukine scoffed.

"Yukine!" Yato raised a hand at him but it went nowhere, hovering over the blond head.

"What? Lying to him is stupid, and this tough guy act you're putting on is even more idiotic." Yukine smacked his hand out of the air and turned to Kazuma. "He got rid of that money the same night he got it."

Kazuma smile was enveloped in amusement and something that Yato couldn't put his finger on. Was he pleased? Maybe Yato didn't like him after all. "Well, I think that answers what I needed to know. Are you ready to hear my proposition then?"

"This better be good," Yato muttered, his eyes narrowing at Kazuma.

"I require a roommate."

Yato's eyes darted from Kazuma to Yukine, temporary relief coming from the confusion also evident on Yukine's face. Yukine mouthed a _what?_ before looking back at Kazuma. "Mind explaining a little more? I'm not exactly sure how that's a job."

"Realistically, this roommate will serve as a front, living rent-free, food included. My parents are watching my social life very closely, as shown by the fact that I am only now moving out of their house," Kazuma cleared his throat, trying to trap the exasperation that bubbled up each time he broached this subject. "If there were to be another male or males," Kazuma kindly motioned towards Yukine, "in the house, my parents could easily be brought to believe that persons visiting the apartment are not necessarily for me."

Yukine almost burst from his seat, "You mean I can come, too?"

"I assume the two of you are a package," Kazuma shrugged, "and really, the more cover the better."

Yato's forehead wrinkled, still trying to decode exactly what Kazuma was paying for here. "So… are we talking prostitutes or something?"

Kazuma choked on his spit, forcing a hard swallow. "No!"

"Who are your parents worried about, then?"

"Well…" Yato was left waiting as an invisible argument played out in Kazuma's head. "I assume that Hiyori has mentioned that we have a certain level of involvement."

"She said it was a _complicated_ relationship," Yato tried to stay as true as possible to her inflection.

Again, a flash of an internal argument spread across Kazuma's face. "And that was it?"

"There's more than that?" Yato knew there was and his heart started to crawl into his throat.

"Technically, we are… for lack of a better term, engaged to be engaged." The last part came out as a swift exhale, Kazume looking pained at the expulsion.

"You're _what?_" The blood froze in his veins, an impossible heaviness settling into his limbs. _You knew she wasn't for you. Hiyori could never belong to you_.

"Our families have approved of an engagement, though that is all." Kazuma took off his glasses with one hand, pinching at the bridge of his nose with the other. "The Iki family affords my parents a leap in social status, without putting _my_ money in danger."

Yato tried to force the words to stick behind his teeth but they tumbled out, making him hate the desperation in his voice, "But she hasn't said yes to anything, has she?"

"Neither of us has, but it comes with an expectation that the only person of the opposite sex I see is her and vice versa."

Yato tried to bring his breath into check, tried to not cling to Kazuma's last answer. "Which means there's a person you want to see, but you suck at sneaking around."

"Yes, there's someone I'm… working towards seeing." Kazuma repositioned his glasses, a light blush resting just below the lenses. "And this would also allow Hiyori to see someone else if she so chose."

"She'd be living there, too?" Yato felt like he swallowed a brick.

"No, not at all. But her parents would never think twice about her visiting that apartment." There was that quality to Kazuma's smile that Yato didn't particularly like. "Do I need to continue, or do we have a deal?"

"We're in, right, Yato?" Yukine sent a sharp poke to Yato's ribcage, but it barely registered.

"Yeah, OK, Kazuma. You have a deal."

"Excellent." Kazuma stood, lifting his jacket to trail it over his shoulder. "When's a good time to send someone for your things?"

"We don't exactly have _things_," Yato shrugged.

"Understood. Then I'll leave the key and address with you." Kazuma reached into his jacket, switching Yato's file with a small manila envelope and placing it on the table. "The front desk is already aware that you'll be new residents."

"Thank you so much!" Yukine stood, extending his hand to a surprised but receptive Kazuma. Yato smirked as they shook and Yukine grasped the envelope, turning his attention to Yato. "I've got to tell Daikoku." Clutching his treasure, Yukine disappeared down the stairs.

"I'm still not seeing how this is an equal trade," Yato didn't move for a handshake, staying motionless.

"I can assure you that I project I'll get just as much out of the deal as you will." Kazuma turned to the stairs but paused, his hand drifting on the banister for a moment. "I have no intention of marrying Hiyori, but that does not mean that I don't treasure her. Her happiness in this is just as important as mine. And your name is the first one that has made a place to stay in our conversations."

* * *

Hiyori heard the car door slam, the clock telling her that it was not the time for father. Mother was home with her, so she held her breath, trying to strain to hear the voices below. It was only a second before her mother's voice rang out her name and Hiyori found herself reluctantly making her way down the stairs.

But as soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs she was able to breathe, seeing no one other than Kazuma sitting on the living room sofa. "You didn't tell me you were coming by today!" Hiyori slid against the velveteen cushions, her shoulder pressing to his.

"I hadn't exactly planned on it. To be truthful, I had a fruitful day and wanted to brag."

Hiyori grabbed his elbow, making sure to whisper in case her mother was drawn to espionage. "Did you finally ask that woman out? What's her name again?"

"Veena and no, not that," Kazuma choked out a laugh. "But I finally rented an apartment and I'd like you to visit tomorrow if you have the time."

"Oh, and the mothers have given their blessing?" Hiyori rolled her eyes.

"Sayuri seemed happy that I'd finally ventured out on my own and you know if your mother approves, mine with follow suit. She's more interested in pleasing your mother than forming her own opinions." Kazuma removed a manila envelope and a folder from his jacket. "I had a key made for you, as well."

"Why, thank you!" Hiyori plucked the envelope from him. "But what's that?"

"Don't be angry with me…"

Hiyori pulled her legs underneath her on the couch, turning her body towards him to get a better look at the guilt on his face. "Kazuma, what did you do?"

"I know you had said that you'd prefer I didn't-"

"I said you _absolutely could not_ look into his past, Kazuma!" Hiyori pushed the words through clenched teeth, trying to keep her voice down.

"I also had a conversation with Yato."

"A conversation? Are you suddenly part of the mafia now?" Hiyori's hands engulfed her face before moving to run through her hair. "And what did you say to him?"

"Nothing in particular. It was simply trying to get a feeling for who he was."

Through Hiyori's exasperation, she still felt her chest tighten. "And?"

"I like him." Kazuma lifted the folder, hovering it over her lap. "But, there are things about him that could be of concern."

Hiyori's fingers gripped the folder, "And this is all just about him?"

"Yes."

Taking the folder into both hands, Hiyori ripped it down the middle, tossing the two pieces back into Kazuma's lap. "If I deserve to know, he'll tell me."


	4. 5 Yen

This is a surprisingly slow-build fic, totally out of character for me. Maybe the real romance will start soon?

* * *

Yato wanted to text her but Hiyori had already said today was off-limits - she was busy - and they were friends which mean he needed to be cool. That idea at least comforted him, friends, but still… he tried to shelve the want for more. _Take what you can get._

Yukine was napping in his own room, in his own bed. You'd have thought the classic IKEA bedroom set was gold with the way Yukine had reacted. It fed a guilt in Yato that it wasn't him that really did that for the boy. As if he could ever be someone who created things rather than destroyed.

Kazuma, after the tour and pleasantries were dispersed, disappeared into his own room. The only sign of life was the intermittent clack of the keyboard.

Yato didn't want to be in his room, finding it echoing with a larger loneliness. The living room wasn't much better, the couch feeling too new and alien, the walls sterile and free of personality. He attempted to concentrate on the want-adds, half-heartedly circling possibilities for the day but it felt pointless.

He picked up the phone and opened SMS.

* * *

Hiyori tucked the flowerpot against her body with her left arm while she inserted the key. She could have knocked but if he gave her a key and a time to be there then what's the big deal? The lock clicked and she turned the knob, catapulting herself through the door a little more exuberantly than she had originally thought. "Happy housewarming!" she chimed, raising the plant up over her head like an offering.

"Hiyori?" Yato squeaked, his head popping up over the back of the couch.

"Yato?" Hiyori juggled the pot for a moment, almost dropping it at the sight of him. "What are you doing here?"

"I," Yato stumbled over the rest of the sentence, "I live here."

Hiyori paused, rerunning this scenario through her mind. Yato lived here. Kazuma said he lived here. Kazuma had talked to Yato yesterday. "What room is Kazuma's?" her voice was tight and she could see Yato shrink a little into the couch.

"Uh, the last one on the left."

Hiyori found herself stomping over to Yato, disregarding the terror that was starting to blossom on his face. "Take this," she shoved the pot into his face, "Put it somewhere nice."

"Sure," it was almost a yelp.

She turned on her heels and started to feel sorry for their neighbors below, her feet connecting hard with the floor. The door was unlocked and Hiyori let herself in, seeing Kazuma sitting calmly at the desk, his eyes falling expectantly on her. The door slammed behind her.

"What the hell, Kazuma!" Hiyori threw her hands up, hoping for a change in his placid, prepared face.

"I'm not exactly sure why you're upset."

Her hands planted firmly on her hips. "You said you _talked_ to Yato."

"I did," Kazuma shrugged.

His nonchalant answers brought the blood boiling in her veins. "What part of that _talk _included him living with you?"

"The end of it, after I got the information I wanted, but you didn't seem particularly interested in that yesterday." A smile was starting to tug at the corners of Kazuma's mouth.

"Oh!" Hiyori resisted the urge to stamp her feet like a child. How could he? How could he play so coy?

"Hiyori," her frustration cooled at the new tone of his voice, that deep, pragmatic tenor. "We both know that while it's not the worst-case scenario, ending up with me is not your ideal. Unfortunately, we are reaching the point when we are running out of options. You have to be aware that this is the first time you've-"

"Yeah," Hiyori cut him off, unsure she wanted to hear the words come from his lips. It would make the situation too real. "I'm sorry I yelled."

"How badly did you scare Yato?"

* * *

Yato had moved the plant ten times so far. There was no fathoming the terror he felt at not putting it in the right spot, especially after seeing what he can only imagine was a minute segment of the anger Hiyori was capable of. After this last placement, which happened to be right on the coffee table in front of where he had been sitting when she entered, Yato found laughter tittering in his chest.

Him. Yato. Scared of a girl. Scared of how he placed a plant from a girl. After all the things he'd done in his life, he could actually be scared of this moment. It was… _normal_.

Hiyori's shouts finally quelled on the other side of the door, the knob slowly turning. She emerged, feet shuffling rather than stomping, the door clicked closed behind her.

"Look!" Yato swung his arms in the direction of the plant, highlighting it with a wave of his hands.

Her snort in reply made her clap a hand over her mouth.

"You don't like it," Yato frowned.

Hiyori let another laugh trickle through her fingers. "The plant's fine. It's the…" Hiyori mimicked his hands before crumbling into laughter.

"I'm a showman, Hiyori. It may look ridiculous when you do it, but I do it with style." Yato smiled, a warmth creeping into his chest. _Normal. We're being normal._

"I'm not even sure that's an insult," Hiyori let one more laugh slip through before clearing her throat. "I'm sorry I yelled, Yato."

Yato shrugged, "I'm guessing while Kazuma may have a lot of information, he's not very good at sharing it. I guess maybe I should have told you, too."

"Let's keep this one firmly blamed on Kazuma, OK?" Hiyori moved towards him, practically throwing herself on the couch in mock exhaustion. "Is Yukine here, too?"

"He's napping." Yato considered the space on the couch, his urge to be close to her overriding any understanding he had of social norms, if he had any at all that is. He ended up nudging into her, his shoulder tight against hers.

Hiyori tried to ignore the lack of space but found herself instantly feeling the heat flaring in her cheeks. "And he's OK with the move?"

Yato rolled his eyes, letting his head fall back against the couch, "He's the one that accepted Kazuma's offer. And if you don't believe me, he will definitely tell you all about it when he wakes up."

"Are _you _OK with the move?"

His first instinct was to lie. To smile, to shrug his shoulders playfully and crack a joke about living with Kofuku having taken years off his life. It was her eyes that drove through him, that made those words crumble in his mouth before he could fake them. "I'm scared."

"Really?" Hiyori nudged his shoulder.

Yato drove his focus to the ceiling, hoping he might be able to lie if he wasn't looking at her. His heart clenched, but the words came out anyway, "I wonder when my luck will run out."

Hiyori let out a tense laugh, "You mean _if_ your luck will run out."

"No, Hiyori." Just a moment ago he'd been cozy, shoulder to shoulder, normal, everything with this girl but now he could feel cold brewing in the pit of his stomach. "It's going to be a _when_."

* * *

Something had changed in his face and Hiyori almost could not recognize him. There was something sharp about this Yato, like quills posed to strike, or maybe teeth. The hair prickled on her neck when he turned back to look at her, nothing other than color showing in his eyes. _There are things about him that could be of concern, remember?_

A door clicked open and Hiyori felt like she had torn out of her skin.

In an instant, showman Yato was back, bouncing from his seat on the couch to the newly opened door and the half asleep young man standing in it. "There's the sleepyhead!"

"Could you quit yelling? I could have slept more but between the stomping and your albatross level screams-"

Yato forced a hand over the boy's mouth, directing his view towards Hiyori. "Save your griping for when we don't have a guest, OK?"

The blond boy's eyes widened, a ferocious blush tinging his previously pale cheeks. He finally peeled Yato's hand away, "You're Hiyori?"

The incredulity in the question made Hiyori laugh. "Yes, and you're Yukine?"

"Yeah." Yukine looked between Yato and Hiyori a few times before shaking his head. "Does he have some kind of dirt on you? Because, really, he's not worth your-"

Yato clapped a hand back over his mouth. "Teens, am I right?"

"Hiyori!" Her name sang melodiously as soon as she exited the school gate.

_No, it can't be_. But it was. Yato, not disguising himself, not hiding behind a tree, but just getting up from leaning against the wall, one hand waving fiercely in the air, a bag hanging over his other shoulder. She did a quick check of her surroundings, thanking every deity that Ami and Yama were not walking home with her today, before rushing over, grasping him by his threadbare tracksuit and dragging him into the closest alley. "You idiot!"

"What?" it was almost a whine like he was the fourteen-year-old, not Yukine.

"What if someone sees?" she hissed, giving his jacket another yank. Somewhere in the back of her mind, regardless of the anger, she was making a mental note that clothes should be his present for Christmas. If she let him make it to Christmas, that is.

Yato offered up his hands, shrugging, "Then I'm just Kazuma's errand boy, making sure you're not accosted on the way home."

"Why are you here anyway?" Hiyori went to turn, ready to walk out of the alley and hope no one saw them walking in too close when Yato casually threw an arm over her shoulder, freezing her in place.

"I have a job nearby but just wanted to see you, just for a second." The worst part is he didn't sound like some lecherous flirt, just like a kid who wanted to make sure you know he existed. When Hiyori turned to look at him she saw the blood rushing to his cheeks, causing Yato to release her and be the first one to step out into the alley. "But, there, I saw you. Caused enough trouble. I'll get going to my job."

"Wait!" She grabbed for his hand, only to release it a second after it stopped him in his tracks. "Can I come with you?"

"You really want to? You might get roped into working." Yato raised an eyebrow.

"That's fine," Hiyori whispered, silently doubting the _might_ in that equation. Yato was nice but still bordered on lazy. OK, truthfully, he was the definition of lazy. She'd never been on a job with him before, but after seeing him living with Kazuma for two weeks it seemed pretty obvious.

"Alright, come on." Yato turned quickly, leaving Hiyori a little in the dust. She trotted to catch up with him and when their shoulders finally met, she felt Yato's hand grab the sleeve of her coat, not holding her hand but holding onto her as if to moor her to him. "Don't get lost," he murmured, making another quick turn.

They stopped at an aging, gray danchi, only about four floors tall. These kinds of buildings always seemed filled with melancholy, and if it wasn't for Yato she was sure she'd never been able to walk up the stairs. It's not like some kind of horror movie, not expecting a black haired girl to float up the stairs behind you, but just a saturation of loneliness.

"Yato, what job is this?"

"You'll see." Yato walked them up to the third floor, stopping at the first apartment. He didn't even bother to knock, opening the door and calling, "Good afternoon!"

"Ah, hello, Yato!" It was a voice like sandpaper, that crept from the kitchen with the slow steps of an old woman. She was hunched and delicately thin, making Hiyori wonder how she moved at all. "And a guest! You didn't tell me there'd be a guest."

"This is Hiyori. She's a real fan of genmaicha and I told her you brewed the best," Yato brushed past her, slinging the bag from his shoulder to the counter. Hiyori watched as he started to take an assortment of groceries out, placing them on the counter.

"Hiyori, I'm Mariko Hirai." She placed a paper-thin hand in Hiyori's.

"Hiyori Iki. It's nice to meet you. I hope you don't mind me intruding."

"Not at all, why don't you go sit down at the table and I'll get started on the tea."

Before Hiyori could even argue, Yato cut her off. "Why don't both of you sit down and I'll start the tea."

"Then it wouldn't be my genmaicha, now would it?" The old woman smirked but began hobbling out the kitchen as if this was their usual exchange.

"I think I've hung around you enough to get it down pat. Go, sit. Hiyori's not too bad once you get her talking." Yato sent her a wink, making her almost need to gulp for air.

Mariko took a firm hold on Hiyori's arm, spurring her to lead the woman out into the living room, only populated by a chabudai and four zabuton. Hiyori helped her to kneel, watching as the woman leaned and steadied herself against the table before Hiyori sat down across from her. "Yato's never brought anyone before."

"Not even Yukine?"

"Ah, is that the boy? Yes, once, you're right, the boy came. But not again. He doesn't seem to have the patience to wait on an old woman." Mariko's laugh was like gravel traveling down a pipe. "Hopefully you'll be better company."

Yato slipped into the room, a tray with the promised tea balancing. He placed it on the end of the table without a word, but a short look at Hiyori that seemed nothing more than a check for her breathing.

"Uh, how long have you known Yato?" Hiyori found her fingers fidgeting with the end of her skirt until she used them to pour the tea.

"I don't exactly remember when he started to come and help, must have been a few years ago. That reminds me," Mariko motioned behind Hiyori towards a cabinet against the wall. "Will you take the purse out of there for me, please?"

"Yes, of course," Hiyori turned, doing as requested. As she placed the purse on the table she let a pleasant smile spread across her lips. "What is it that Yato does for you anyway?"

"He does the shopping, cleans around the house, and then, if I'm lucky, he'll make some asazuke. He's not the best at it, but the fact that he'll take the extra time," Mariko let her words drift off as she dug through the purse, pulling out a five yen piece, placing it to the table with a clink.

"What's that for?" Hiyori put a finger on the yen piece, sliding it softly to the middle of the table.

"For Yato, of course." Mariko shut the purse and placed it back on the table. "Now, Hiyori…"

And while Hiyori kept up her end of the inconsequential conversation, answering questions ranging from her parents to school, her eyes kept drifting back to the five yen. The groceries cost more than five yen, not to mention the time and effort he put into the house. But five yen. It started as a chant in her head.

* * *

He noticed the walk home from Mariko's was decidedly quieter, Hiyori somewhere off in her own thoughts. She hadn't seemed upset while talking to the old woman and he'd be shocked if that antediluvian sweetheart would say anything to hurt Hiyori's feelings but here she was, involved in something in her head. "Hey, Earth to Hiyori, come in Hiyori!" Yato flung an arm around her shoulders, jolting Hiyori back to reality.

"Sorry," she mumbled, shrugging her shoulders until Yato released her.

"What's bugging you?" He wanted to hold her again but was sure that he would get more rejection, her body still looking rigidly straight after his last attempt.

"Yato," her voice started as a yell, but she paused, readjusting the volume but not the tone, "How do you expect to take care of Yukine, of yourself, when all you charge is five yen?"

This was the age-old scolding, one he knew well. Yato laughed, holding up in hands in mock surrender. "I know, I know, but Hiyori, who's going to help them if I don't?"

Hiyori's fists were clenched at her side, Yato resisting the urge to grab on, try to relax it into his own fingers. "I guess, but…" air pressured through her lips, "Is this all you want?"

"Yeah, It's the people, not the things." Yato fleetingly pressed his shoulder into hers. "As long as you remember me."


	5. The Capypa Plan

Oh, boy, I'm setting you up here. Good luck, have fun reading!

* * *

Sometimes Hiyori could forget that this was an apartment inhabited by young males, but today was not one of those days. As she let herself into the apartment she was greeted by Yato with Yukine in a headlock, the younger boy expelling a string of curses. "Say it, Yukine!" Yato chimed.

"Get off of me!" Yukine growled.

Hiyori was ready to _let boys be boys_ when she noticed the terror on Yukine's face. She looked to Yato, seeing that he was oblivious to it, not even noticing the tensing all over Yukine's body. "Yato!" Hiyori tried to stay more scolding but found herself sounding frantic.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Yato instantly dropped his arm from Yukine, starting to move towards her.

"Nothing, just, you shouldn't be rough with Yukine like that."

"It's no big deal," Yukine grumbled, but she watched his hands shake as they went up to fix his hair.

"Yeah, we were just fooling around," Yato shrugged, but she could see him working back and forth between Yukine and herself, trying to see what she was seeing.

"It's not like he's strong enough to hurt me anyway," Yukine threw away the comment as he walked back to his room. "I'll leave you two alone as if you'll do anything anyway."

"Hey!" Yato went to object but the door slammed closed behind Yukine. "Can you believe him?"

"Yato," Hiyori sighed. "Didn't you notice he was uncomfortable?"

"He's always like that. I thought that was just the definition of being a fourteen-year-old."

Hiyori stared at him, her mind debating the next question before she could ask it. Yato didn't seem to be one who offered information freely, but he always seemed to answer her truthfully. A part of her was afraid she would reach a question he wouldn't answer, or, worse yet, would lie. "How did you become responsible for Yukine?"

* * *

Yato bristled, his hands suddenly having no comfortable place to be. "He hasn't talked to anyone about that, that I know of, and I'm not sure I'm the one to tell it." _Liar._ No, it wasn't a lie, but an evasion.

Looking in her eyes seemed to tell him she knew. "Did something happen to his parents?" Hiyori pressed.

Yato looked towards Yukine's door, considering the moment and the boy. "His dad hurt him, physically, you know." He hated offering even that because again his mind screamed avoidance.

Hiyori let out a long breath, "So even that kind of playing around can bring back bad memories, Yato."

His stomach tightened, feeling a conglomeration of anger, guilt, and stupidity swirled into one giant mess. "Yeah."

The breath left his throat as she moved towards him quickly, taking both of his hands from his sides. "You have to do a better job for him. He's relying on you."

Another sick wave of that mess washed over his heart. "I'll try."

"It's just you two, so I get it that you didn't see it," she smiled softly at him.

"I don't," he shot the reply at her. "I'm trying, Hiyori. With myself, with him, with _you_." The last one came out and left him looking for a gulp of air.

"Sometimes we don't see it by ourselves, that's why you talk to the other person." Hiyori withdrew her hands and Yato felt cold without them, wanting to grasp them back. "When's the last time you really talked to Yukine?" Hiyori moved towards the couch, sinking into her usual spot.

_When he was still in a hospital bed._ Yato swallowed that answer. Evading. "Probably too long." He sunk into the couch next to her, letting his head slip onto her shoulder. It wasn't easy not seeing her face. "It's not like he's really into being talked to."

"It takes practice." Hiyori cleared her throat. "I think you should talk to him about letting me tutor him, too. Since he's not going to school."

"I'll ask him." Yato's selfishness reared up, the idea of Hiyori's time being taken up by Yukine too. _Stop it. She's here almost every night. You have no right to complain. Especially since this is as far as you go, isn't it?_ He could feel her tense and waited for her to say something, the silence growing in his head. "Hiyori," he lifted his head, finally looking into her eyes, seeing her blush suddenly. "Can I get closer?"

"What?" her voice squeaked.

"I want to see your face while we talk."

"Then sit up!" She took a finger and gently pushed against his cheek, giving her shoulder more room.

"But I still want to touch you."

Hiyori couldn't hide how flustered she was, and Yato would have enjoyed it if he wasn't so intent on his answer. She picked up the pillow from the edge of the sofa, putting it in her lap. "Put your head here."

Yato did as he was told, finding he could look up at her just perfectly. "But it's not touching."

"The pillow is!" She sighed, bringing a hand to her cheek, trying not to meet his eyes from his new position.

Yato reached a hand up and let his palm rest against along the side of her neck, reaching towards the back. He let the arm slack against her chest, memorizing the warmth.

"You're always so touchy," her voice was breathless and she still wouldn't look at him.

"Do you not like it?" Yato let his index finger trail her hairline, watching as her lip trembled. "I'll stop if you want."

"I…" A small smile broke through Hiyori's lips as their eyes finally met. "No, it's fine."

His voice was a soft whisper, "Thank you."

* * *

Hiyori's ear was pressed to the door, trying to make out the full conversation on the other side. She only darted her eyes to the other door when Yato opened it, stopping in his tracks at the sight of her crouched by Kazuma's door. Hiyori put a finger to her lips and Yato shrugged dismissively before easing himself onto the couch, watching her as she spied. After a few more moments of muffled conversation, she heard the _goodbye_ and slunk slowly from the door.

"What was that?" Yato eyed her as she joined him on the couch.

"Kazuma," Hiyori groaned, rubbing her fingers at her temples. "I've been trying to get him to talk to Veena-"

"You mean sticking your nose where it doesn't belong," Yato laughed.

"Hey!" Hiyori feigned offense before breaking into a laugh.

"Why not let the guy work at his own pace?"

_Because look at us._ But that wasn't fair, if she wanted to move faster she could urge this along just as quickly as she wanted to since Yato was, baseline, all hands. There was something amazing about creeping along though, watching him learn to be an attentive person before becoming a partner, if he was even going to become a partner. Hiyori had still neglected to ask for any firm confirmation that he was even interested beyond stealing her warmth on the couch. She tried to clear that picture with thoughts of Veena, who she'd met a few times at Kazuma's office. "You haven't seen Veena. She's beautiful. How she's still single boggles my mind and if Kazuma doesn't hurry up and make a move he'll miss his window."

"I doubt she's more beautiful than you," the comment was almost thrown away as if common knowledge, not flirtatious, making Hiyori's scalp tingle.

"Oh, definitely, she is," Hiyori wasn't just being modest. Three inches and silvery blond hair made a difference, but apparently not to Yato, who scoffed in reply. "So, it's come down to me needing your help."

"Why am I the last resort? I'm trustworthy, Hiyori! Why wasn't I first choice?" He melted into her, his whine breathing out across her neck from his hiding spot in her hair.

"Stop it!" Both the whining and the breath were touching a nerve, though to be honest, one wasn't so unpleasurable. She tried to give herself some space on the couch but he snuggled closer, an arm pulling at her waist. "We're going to make them go out on a double date with us."

The struggle to repel him stopped and Yato glided back, strangely separating himself from her. "Double date? Like you and I are out together?"

"To help them," she stumbled over the words. The next thing she knew was nothing more than playing dirty, trying to evade the honest truth that this date was as much for Kazuma and Veena as it was for her. "A date to Capypa Land."

And just as expected, Yato fell wholeheartedly into the trap. "Capypa?" it was a squeal better left for toddlers, not grown men, but Yato embraced it. What came next was a string of sentences that, no matter how hard she tried, Hiyori could not keep up with, catching only small snippets of things about the park. She took out her phone, placing a firm hand over Yato's mouth, leaving only muffled ecstasy. She had Veena's number, a tidbit that Kazuma didn't know, and she tapped the screen to dial.

"Hello, Hiyori," the surprise was obvious on the other end of the line.

"Hi, Veena, I'm really sorry to be bothering you." Hiyori tried to relax her fingers but found Yato continuing, unaffected by the phone call.

"Not at all, it's nice to hear from you again." There was a pause before Veena seemed to relax a little. "How have you been? Kazuma told me you'd had a health episode."

"Ah, yes, I did, but it's all fine now. I'm really just trying to go back to normal."

She felt Yato snort under her fingers and she withdrew her hand to see his smirk, mouthing, _"Normal?"_

"That's good to hear."

"And I was actually hoping you'd be able to join us-"

"Next Sunday," Yato almost shouted, making Hiyori jump.

"Next Sunday," Hiyori continued, blinking at Yato for a moment before turning her attention back to the call at hand. "I wanted to go to Capypa Land with Kazuma and a friend, but, well, I kind of… you know. I don't want Kazuma to feel like a third wheel."

"Oh, a _friend_," Veena's voice was devilish. "And you're bringing Kazuma in case this _friend_ doesn't exactly pan out the way you're expecting?"

"Yes," Hiyori didn't have to fake the nervousness to play this part. If she was inviting Yato on a date, if she was really doing that, what if she tried to kiss him? What if all this puppy-like attention is really just what it is to be friends with Yato? And wasn't she the one who said friends in the first place and-

"I think next Sunday is just fine. I'll see all of you then."

Hiyori broke out of her own spiral, feeling the momentary thrill of success. "Great, Veena! I'll text you the details later. Have a great night."

"See you soon," Veena cooed.

She let the phone fall to her lap, narrowing her eyes at Yato. "Next Sunday?"

"The weather is supposed to be nice," Yato shrugged before careening back into her, his head now dangerously close to, no, it was resting on her chest. "Hiyori's taking me to Capypa Land!" he sung into her skin.

"Yes, OK, you're crushing me!" She tried to position her arm between them to act as a wedge.

Kazuma's door flew open, his face crimson as he brandished his phone at Hiyori. "Why did I just get a text from Veena saying-" He paused, analyzing the compromising position on the couch before clearing his throat as he turned his head. "Maybe you two should start spending more time in Yato's room."

"That's - this isn't - he's just excited," Hiyori stuttered, still trying to pry Yato away.

Yato wiggled again. "Hiyori's taking me to Capypa Land!"

"Is that what this is about?" Kazuma finally came back to his original anger. "_Looking forward to our 'date'_ with a winking smiley?"

"Oh, a smiley!" Yato cheered, receiving a sneer from Kazuma and a hearty laugh from Hiyori, who had finally stopped trying to separate them.

"She said date?" Hiyori couldn't stop herself from smiling.

"There are quotations, which I assume means that she's mocking the word date, which means she's not interested in doing something like that for me and how the hell did you even make her agree?" He looked like he had more but the rest flooded out as air.

"She said yes pretty easily," Yato tried to be reassuring.

"And she knows she's there to keep _you_ company! I told her that's exactly why I was asking her." Hiyori felt like crossing her fingers and toes because although she had convinced Veena, she knew Kazuma was a completely different story. "And I'll help you prep! We'll pick an outfit, I'll give you some talking points, everything, Kazuma, I swear!"

Kazuma was wilting before her eyes. "Oh, Hiyori, she's going to hate it."

Hiyori nudged her way out of Yato's grasp, finding that the sight of Kazuma's face was now enough to slow Yato's happiness, and moved to Kazuma, taking his hands. "That's absolutely not true. She stays late with you at work and she always opts to have dinner with you there. You've taken her home all of those nights. If she didn't like your company, then she wouldn't stay."

"Maybe," Kazuma swallowed.

"No maybe! This is your chance. No work talk, no underlings to interrupt, just you and Veena at an amusement park."

"With you two," he sighed.

"Well, yes, but look at him," Hiyori gestured back towards Yato, who was right back to the daydream about Capypa and all his friends. "Do you think he's really going to bother you two? And… well," Hiyori leaned in, her words only for Kazuma. "I may have told her that this was my chance to be close to him."


	6. Red Handed

I apologize for rushing a little through Capypa Land, but I really wanted to get you to this cliffhanger.

* * *

Driving there had been a possible disaster because Hiyori insisted Yato do the driving, giving Veena and Kazuma the backseat. Between his Tokyo Drift driving skills and the hand that he insisted be on the bare skin of her thigh (how unfortunate she picked a dress), Hiyori was not sure she'd survive even the beginning of the date. But she clung to the fact that Kazuma and Veena seemed to be talking the whole ride, a conversation mostly for themselves, and Kazuma was smiling so much she was sure the next day his face would be sore.

And while this, in theory, had been a great idea, Hiyori had seriously underestimated Yato's Capypa fandom and his ability to emulate an age range that was far below his own. The day was spent wrangling Yato like an unruly toddler, trying to keep him from hugging the life from any Capypa they came across. It was starting to dawn on her that perhaps he even thought they were real, but she hoped that was too far fetched for a man in his twenties.

"Yato, just slow down!" Hiyori clutched at his arm, pulling him to the first moment of motionlessness he'd had all day.

Yato turned to her, his smile shrinking from the overactive child grin to a simple, gentle look as he leaned in closer to her. "Kazuma's doing great, right?"

"Yeah," Hiyori glanced back at the pair walking behind them. Not too closely, but enough that they bumped shoulders every few steps. It also struck her that Yato seemed invested in that as well, and it dawned on her that somehow there had been a method to his madness. Neither of them had wandered out of hearing range of Veena and Kazuma, and didn't it seem like each time the conversation lulled it was Yato who was jumping headfirst into another fit of Capypa passion?

Hiyori spent only minutes waiting for the confirmation, finally seeing Yato's comic relief falling into a pattern that kept the date smoothly running along. Her heart skipped a beat at the realization and her face must have shown it because Yato stopped at the sight of her. "You OK, Hiyori?"

"Um, yes, but," Hiyori took a deep breath before slipping her hand into his, finding him slow to lace fingers with hers. "Just don't run off, OK? Stay with me."

* * *

_Stay with me_ was a clap of thunder that shook him to the core, the only thing keeping him grounded was her hand in his. Yato knew he couldn't have been more exasperating today and he was sure Hiyori should be at the end of her sanity, but there she was, taking his hand.

Yato always avoided that. He'd grabbed at her sleeve, and there was no end to the amount of personal space he'd ignore when they were on the couch together, but there was something different to him about holding hands. He even had to flip through every file in his brain in search of a time he had held hands with someone beyond the regular kid crossing the street era of his life. No, he was pretty sure this was it and it struck him hard how much he never wanted to hold another hand again.

He finally reminded himself he was supposed to form words in reply and breathed, "Sure, whatever you want, Hiyori." He no longer sounded like the Capypa Yato, suddenly transformed into a breathless adolescent boy at just the touch of her hand. _Heaven help me_.

It somehow now felt like the time was slipping through his fingers, the sun setting on a day that he could guess was perfect for Kazuma, who hadn't stopped making that moony smile since they got there, but couldn't quite gauge for Hiyori. This was her idea, her plan, but weren't they technically on a date, too? _And who said you deserved a date, to begin with? You told her yourself - your luck will run out._

"Hey," her voice was soft and the squeeze of her hand was almost too much. "We should try to find a good spot for the fireworks and just wait." Her half-smile told him she was expecting some usual Yato resistance.

"Sounds good." Yato could barely breathe, strangled by that reminder.

Hiyori took control and he let himself be pulled from spot to spot, Veena and Hiyori stopping to determine the positives and negatives of each locale before finally deciding on two side by side benches. Yato felt at a loss when her hand released his. He couldn't move fast enough to invade her space on the bench, his arm wrapping around her shoulder easily, but he found himself still longing for her hand. Hiyori had turned her head, talking to Kazuma at the next bench, leaving Yato to that hesitation in his head.

_Wouldn't it be fun if I showed up?_ an old voice whispered in his ear and he found himself unable to convince himself immediately that it wasn't real. _What do you think I'd have to say about this new life that you think you can have? This new life that you think absolves you from the past?_

A choking sound grated in his throat.

* * *

"Yato?" Hiyori couldn't help but notice the intense shift.

"Yeah, sorry," but his voice was strained and far away.

She reached for him, her hand planting firmly on his chest, grasping into the fabric of his shirt. It took everything she had to force her mouth towards his ear, a whisper just for him that made her blush. "Whatever you're thinking about, stop it. Everything is fine." As Hiyori pulled back she saw the shudder trail down his shoulder, his skin breaking into goosebumps.

His free hand came to his face, rubbing over his eyes and she found herself afraid that she'd said the wrong thing, pushed him too hard. "Hiyori, are you happy?"

Her hand clenched again. "Yes, I'm very happy today. Don't worry about-"

"Are you happy with me?"

"Yes," Hiyori found herself unable to hesitate, the truth of the answer all she needed.

Yato went back to being silent. Hiyori could tell he was still thinking, still working, but as the first firework went off, she could see it was waning. Even with the beauty of each burst, Hiyori began to wish they were at home, a place that facilitated her picking apart his brain and the agony that dwelled in his previous silence. Everything behind him was still a black screen and while they had built things in front of it together, she worried what was waiting there behind it.

It was his hand that snapped her out of it, a hesitant finger touching at the hand closest to him. A smile broke across her face as she moved her hand into his, finding him accepting it without hesitation. Hiyori allowed herself to finally relax into Yato, his arm wrapped a little tighter, his thumb ran over her knuckles. Another moment built in front of the black screen.

* * *

"_I want to see you tomorrow."_ The text came almost as soon as he had dropped Kazuma off and started back to Daikoku's with the car. He'd dropped Hiyori off first, her orders, so that Kazuma and Veena could have more time together. Then Veena, with Kazuma walking her to the door. Yato couldn't stop himself from actually crossing his fingers for the guy who had done fairly well all evening, but there was no kiss. _As if you're one to talk, Mr. Holding-hands-is-a-big-deal._

Yato changed direction, making a not exactly legal turn to get himself back on route to Hiyori's house. He was insane, he knew it, even considering to go back there, but something in that text… _and you chickened out today, didn't you?_ Yeah, romantic Yato had been annihilated the moment he let that old voice into his head, but he couldn't do that, not to Hiyori.

He left the car down the street, unsure of how hawkish her parents would even be. Now came the hard part. If he texted her, she'd probably be angry and that would put a damper on any positivity that could be coming from that text. Instead, he opted for something a little more Yato-style, climbing the tallest tree that seemed to come alongside one of the second-floor windows. Breaking into Hiyori's house was definitely off-limits, but looking in, maybe catching her eye, wasn't so bad, right?

A few scrapes aside, Yato made it window level without much difficulty, secretly enjoying the challenge. He blamed his pounding heart on the exercise, but really it was the delicate decor of her room that just screamed Hiyori and the fact that he was looking at it with a nightgown clad Hiyori bent over the desk scribbling in a notebook. As he was trying to negotiate how he was going to get her attention, Hiyori stood from the desk, turning to face the windows on her turn.

She froze like a deer in the headlights, a hand flying to her mouth. Her movements were slow, seeming to operate on the disreality of the moment. The window flew open, her head sticking. "Yato!" she hissed.

"Hey, Hiyori," he cooed softly. Yato didn't deliberate, just taking his opening, putting a foot in the window frame.

"What are you-" she cut herself off with her exit from the window, it being obvious that she would not keep Yato from coming in.

Yato tried to make the softest landing possible and found himself leaning against the sill, Hiyori as close to him as possible. "You wanted to see me."

"Tomorrow, dummy," her whispers were as sharp as daggers. "My mother is home, if she catches you-"

"Then maybe we should stick to saying what we need to say." Yato felt like he needed to catch his breath, and he could feel his resolve wavering. He tried a deep breath but she preempted him.

"I want to know what you were thinking about today." Her voice may have been soft in volume but the tone was resolute, leaving Yato frozen. "At the fireworks, what were you thinking about?"

"You," a lie, no, an evasion again. He cleared his throat, reaching an edge that he was either going to shy from or jump. "No, it was us. I… What do you want from me, Hiyori?" There wasn't a more painful question in his life, no bigger feeling of indecision than this moment.

"A lot of things," the earnestness in her voice seemed to shock both of them and Hiyori's cheeks lit up. "I want the truth. I want to _know_ about you. I want your past. I want-" She cut herself off and touched her face as if to hide the color before moving those things to his cheeks, transferring the blush to his. "I want this." The words breathed across his lips as she closed the distance, her mouth capturing his without a fight.

Yato couldn't fight if he wanted to, all his strength deadened by the want that had been compiling in his heart, crushed away constantly by his doubt. For a moment, he actually found himself believing that Hiyori was right, that his luck running out wasn't a when it was an if.

That was until Hiyori's mother's voice erupted from behind her.


	7. Sneaking Out

Okay, I have SO MUCH written after this, but I can't seem to bridge from this arch to the one I've already written. Please forgive me.

* * *

Hiyori found that everything that night after her mother finding them went as predicted.

First, there was the call to get Yato out, this was private business and even though she'd just been found in an intimate position with him, he wasn't part of it. Yato tried in that usual playful, ask for forgiveness rather than permission kind of way, but Sayuri was the last one to try that with. The apple did fall far from the tree in this instance. Hiyori did get the allowance to walk him to the door, Sayuri watching at the top of the stairs as she ushered Yato out.

"I'm sorry, Hiyori. I ruined it." Yato didn't seem to be able to look at her, his eyes drifting along the frame of the door.

"Stop it," Hiyori nudged into him, knowing that she'd pay for that in the conversation with mother. "And don't go home thinking you'll never see me again. You'll make the whole apartment miserable."

His eyes, wide with surprise, shot to her face finally. "But, Hiyori-"

"The only thing that's over is the engagement." Hiyori felt a tremble in her stomach, knowing she would have to back up those words with her actions, something that both terrified and excited her. She could see him trying to formulate an argument and she made a note to ask him why he always wanted to take the good things away from himself like he didn't deserve them. That would be for later after she'd weathered whatever storm this would turn into. "Just wait for me, OK?"

There had been solid yelling for ten minutes, which tapered into thirty minutes of lecturing, including a long discussion as to whether or not her virtue was still intact, a question that Hiyori had wished never to be asked about in her life. Hiyori had insisted that the engagement was over, but her mother made it clear that they wouldn't discuss this with her father and Hiyori was supposed to be considering how much she had shamed her mother and, by extension, Kazuma. As far as Sayuri was concerned, Hiyori just needed time to consider what was best for her.

Kazuma had done an excellent job of faking anger with her just long enough to get her mother to leave the scolding to him. Of course, as soon as Sayuri left them, the scoldings stopped. Well, not completely, since Kazuma had some choice words for Yato's tree climbing scheme. Kazuma didn't spend that much time with her, knowing that he would have to put out fires with his own mother who had already sent the dreaded text, _"Sayuri just called me."_ As Kazuma left her, she felt herself clinging to him.

"You're not actually mad at me are you, Kazuma?" Hiyori hugged herself to his middle, sure that she was partially strangling him.

He laughed, his hand absently patting her back like a child. "Of course not. Is it strange that I'm a little sad though? Not that I expected or wanted a different outcome, but this connection to you is changing."

"No," Hiyori murmured into his shirt. "You're my closest friend, Kazuma."

"Isn't that a spot best left for Yato?" Kazuma stopped his patting, slipping out of her arms, that same frank, knowing smile gracing his features.

Hiyori shook her head, "We're changing, but I don't think the new negates the old." She smoothed his shirt, a laugh escaping her lips. "And could you imagine Yato trying to keep a secret?"

* * *

Yato laid sleepless in bed, knowing by the blink of 3 AM that the idea of getting rest tonight would be absurd. Kazuma was gone by the time Yato had returned from the debacle at Hiyori's, leaving just a verbal confirmation with Yukine that, yes, he knew about the problem and would be gone on damage control. That was a whole twenty-four plus hours ago, and the only other message he'd gotten on the subject was a quick text from Hiyori. _"Just wait a little longer."_ And while Yato had tried, he couldn't listen to Hiyori, now trapped in a record playing a song that he'd never be able to set eyes on her again. After trying for the whole day, Yukine had found Yato's constant wailing and need for physical affection to be just too taxing and had left at dinnertime for Kofuku's to find some relief.

Alone, wide awake, with the knowledge he'd had the best kiss of his life and that was the last he'd get, Yato finally slunk out of bed and went to the kitchen. It was easy to chug the first beer, his throat and mouth dry from the wait for sleep. As he chugged through the second, he told himself he'd slow down on the third, feeling the slosh in his stomach. But, really, what went better together than alcohol and heartbreak?

He brought the third beer back to his room, putting on the nightstand as he positioned the pillows to sit up in bed. As he finally slipped into his pillow arrangement, phone in one hand and beer in the other, the tiny noise hit his ears. Regardless of how much he tried, the old Yato was there, and that creeping voice told him he wasn't alone, that even though his door was closed, the sound of the front door lock clicked had still filtered to his ears.

He slowly put both the beer and the phone on the nightstand, careful not to make a sound. _It's Yukine_, he told himself but Yukine never made soft footsteps, always adopting a stomping, grumpy amble. _It's Kazuma_, he corrected, but the gait was all wrong. _It's…_ "Hiyori!" her name was out of his lips just as she opened the door, causing her to jump.

"Hey." There was too much of a smile on her face, making his heart roar in his ears.

"What are you doing here?" he spat out.

"I snuck out," she shrugged, a short laugh easing out of her throat. Her eyes went around the sparsely decorated room before walking towards him, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"But why are you here?"

* * *

Hiyori tried to hold in her vexation at what seemed like a stupid question. "Yato…" she sighed and started to open her mouth but Yato's words ran over hers.

"Your mother seemed pretty explicit about never seeing me again." He could barely get the sentence out before she was laughing again.

Hiyori bit her lip to stop another laugh, trying to decide what feeling was winning right now in her heart. The elation of breaking the rules, of thinking about sneaking into a boy's room, was wearing down and she remembered the talk she had practiced all day today. "Do you want me to be here?"

Yato's eyes moved to the bedspread, his hands clenching into the fabric. "Hiyori…"

"You got to ask me what I wanted from you, but what do you want from me?" Hiyori's hands slipped on top of his, trying to ease the harsh grip of his fingers. "And I know I don't have to ask you not to lie to me, but don't…" She struggled with the words, the idea of what she wanted, "Don't hold back because it's something you think you don't deserve. I'll decide that for myself."

It looked like she'd slapped him in the face, his jaw drawn tight trying to capture the words he wanted to let free. "You don't know anything about me," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"We're not talking about that yet! I asked you what _you_ want." She turned on the bed, pulling her knees underneath her.

He watched her move and then closed his eyes with a sigh. "I want," those words alone seemed to choke him up. "I want to be good enough to deserve you." He winced as if expecting a hit.

It was heartbreaking, the fact that he still could not take his own hatred for himself out of the equation. Hiyori moved her hands up to his arms to his chest, easing herself onto him, watching as those ocean eyes slowly opened, glossy as if on the verge of tears. She brought her lips to his, tasting the cereal note of the beer. No matter the want for him, Hiyori shot her head back, unable to stop the word from leaking from her lips, "Yuck!"

"What?" Yato had was wavering by her cheek, the shock of the ruined moment written all over his face.

"Are you drunk?" Hiyori looked from him to the table, seeing the beer can shine in the moonlight.

"I was sad, Hiyori! Drinking is what you do when you're sad," Yato reached for the beer but Hiyori snatched it first. "That's mine!"

Hiyori sniffed it for a moment, wrinkling her nose at the bitter but still sour smell. She tipped it to her lips, a swish of carbonation with that same hint of cereal and malt assaulting her tongue.

"What are you doing!" Yato tried to snatch it from her again but she weaved her hand away out of his grasp. "I bet you don't even like it, you thief."

"It's weird," Hiyori leaned away from him, bringing the can to her lips again.

"What's gotten into you?"

"Everything," she sighed in contentment, her mind still totally clear in the moment. He wanted her. She was sure she wanted him. She and Kazuma were a united front on no engagement. She was going to be free. She was going to live her life. She was going to have a beer in bed with a man she planned to continue kissing as soon as he stopped interfering with her drink.

* * *

Chasing his beer seemed futile, and, in all honesty, he was pleased with the diversion it had created, another way for him to evade. Wasn't that just like him, though. He watched her tip back the can again, noting with surprise that it was almost empty, and let his hand slide against her neck. "Let me have some."

"No." She held her hand up again, keeping the beer out of his reach.

"I guess I'll just have to steal some." His hand moved from her neck up into her hairline, getting enough of a hold that he could force her a little forward, closing enough space that he only had to tilt his head to capture her mouth. Yato felt back at that moment she had said his name for the first time when his whole body felt like glass that could shatter with just another word from her. He couldn't escape the way she stripped him bare, made him want in a way that he almost felt he wasn't allowed to, made him forget that he was a disaster.

"Yato…" she purred over his lips.

"Give me the can." Yato ran his hand down her arm and met her hand, taking the beer. He had thought wrong and it was empty, but he still had enough decorum to put it back in its place on the nightstand. His hand came back to her, plunging back into her hair, Hiyori leaning into the touch, a rosy blush brightening her cheeks. A small thought leaped into his mind, that he wanted her to always look like that when he touched her. He tilted her mouth to his again, finding no real notes of the bitter beer but instead a sweetness that invaded his senses. "Hiyori, tell me what you want," he breathed across her lips. He felt himself on the border, ready to break, ready to do whatever it is she ordered.

"Kiss me like that again. It's like you haven't seen me in weeks." Her laugh flooded across his lips, spurring him to follow her wishes.

Yato wondered if she could understand that it was, to some extent, missing her that forced him to crash into her, that hand tangling in her hair as his other hand pressed at her lower back. It was missing all the opportunities, the way that he had forced himself to wait as if she'd forget him and move on before he could actually get to fulfill himself. He wanted her closer, so he rolled her over onto the bed, being careful not to put his full body weight on her but instead pressing against her side, leaving space for his hand to roam from the small of her back to her side, drifting up and over her breast.

* * *

Hiyori felt him slow and hesitate as his hand rounded to her chest. It was a special kind of torture, the want for that caress but her mind suddenly running questions of how far was too far for her. She'd asked for a kiss, but with the hint of this touch, she found herself wanting that, too. It was impossible for her to draw a line and she found herself pressing into him forcing the movement of his hand against her shirt, that slim line of hesitation dissolving with the friction. Her own hand moved searchingly towards his middle, finding where shirt parting from skin and let her fingers glide until her palm was flat against his stomach, feeling the heat and texture of his skin.

"Stop," he breathed harshly into her mouth. His hand grasped at the one at his stomach, bringing it forcefully to the bed and pinning it there.

"Why?" But a part of her knew the answer. She'd touched her own skin a million times, that smooth surface, but Yato's had been a texture, grooves and lines drawn in his flesh.

"It's too much."

"For me or for you?" He pulled away from her, his eyes shining with that cold calculation of the Yato she didn't know.

"Both." His eyes stayed on her, but he relaxed his hold, grimacing as her hand came back to its spot.

"Take off your shirt."

It was as if he was waiting for the resolve to dissolve from her face and when it didn't, he expelled the air from between his lips as he sat up, ripping his shirt off, leaving her just a view of his back. Even in the moonlight that filtered from the windows, it was not hard to see the hundred years worth of battle that he wore on his skin. Scars ranged from a fine pink to a ghostly white, sizes and shapes in all array, making no two alike. Hiyori felt her throat rattle through a swallow, trying to process the number, the intensity of those old wounds.

"Each person who gave me one of these is dead, except for one." Yato's voice sounded weaved between trembling and cold as if he couldn't quite get a handle on the way this made him feel.

"Who?" Hiyori hated the shudder in her own voice.

"My father." Yato still refused to turn, even as Hiyori moved herself to sit up in the bed. "I've always been good at hurting people, Hiyori. I could even hurt you."

"Do you really think you could?"

That tone in her voice was like a dagger in his back. It wasn't mocking, as if goading him to do it, but it was a total and complete disbelief, as if those scars, the words that he just spoke meant nothing to her. She was supposed to be scared, she was supposed to be up, heading for the door, throwing away the key to the apartment along with any memories that she had of him. _Cut ties._

"Answer me." Another strong demand for her and he felt weak, wilting.

"I would rather die." He sighed at his own melodrama, but again, he couldn't lie to her. How she had done this, destroyed whatever lifelong defenses he had built, was beyond him. Yato was too lost in scolding himself for such a telenovela grade line that he didn't hear the shifting of her own clothing, the tumble of it to the floor. It wasn't until she pressed herself to his back, her arms around his waist, hands reaching to his chest, that he could feel the lack of fabric between the two of them. "Hiyori!" He couldn't stop it from coming out as a yelp, instantly berating himself for the lack of coolness at the moment.

"I know you've hurt people," Hiyori whispered against his skin, sending a shock straight up his spine, "But I've only seen you help people. For the past few months, you've only been a good man. If that's what you want to be, Yato, then I want to be with you."

"Hiyori…" He laced his fingers in hers, trying to calm himself to the point where it felt like there was air in his lungs. She seemed to melt into him, her cheek pressed firmly against his back. It was quiet, and in the darkness he tried to focus on her breathing, trying to bring himself to the calm that she was exuding. "Are you naked?" Yato squeaked, still not being able to overcome _that_ part of his nature.

"Only my top," she grumbled into his back. "I wanted to, I thought your skin felt nice and I, well-"

"You pervert!" Yato tried to turn his head but her hand slipped from him, quickly coming over his shoulder to connect with his cheek.

"You pervert! Don't look!" Hiyori pressed her palm firmly into his face.

"Hiyori, just one peek!" Yato let himself fall back, catching Hiyori off guard, sandwiching her between his body and the bed.

"Get off me! You're heavy!"

"Does that mean I can-?" But as soon as he managed to roll over she had grabbed part of the sheet, stretching it enough to cover the most interesting part of her chest, but leaving at least the hint of skin at her collarbone and one side of her waist. "You're no fun, Hiyori."

"After all that, this is what I get?" Yato preempted her by wrapping a leg around her, knowing that a kick was probably coming his way.

"I'll give you anything you want." Yato planted a firm kiss on her collarbone, smiling against her skin as the air hitched in her throat.

"Then turn over." Yato blinked up at Hiyori but saw that same daunting resolution, leaving him to do nothing more than what he was told. He laid on his side, his back to her, holding his breath. He felt her lips graze across the nape of his neck as her arm tugged around his stomach, her body settling into his. "I just want to stay like this for a little while."

"Don't you have to go home?" Yato hated the words as soon as they left his lips.

"I'm staying with you, just for tonight, OK?"

"Yeah," Yato tried to gulp down the adolescent rise in his voice and his hormones. _Like this? In his bed? Her bare breasts pressed against his back?_ He was sure he'd never sleep again, but he was wrong. He didn't know how someone else's heartbeat could smooth out your own. He didn't know how someone's warm skin could fold into your own in a way that untangled every nerve in your body. He didn't know that this closeness, just being aligned in such a way, could bring your body peace. He didn't seem to know any of that until he fell asleep, her grip still protectively tight around him.

* * *

Hiyori woke, finding the position had reversed in the night. She actually remembered a few moves throughout the night since sleeping next to someone tangled with their body was not her norm, so she had woken a few times with the movement, the resorting of limbs. Yato now had an arm curved over her side, his hand delicately brushing the underside of her breast, his chest flush against her back. She wondered how he wasn't choking on her hair. "Yato?"

"I'm dreaming," he murmured, "of Capypa Land."

"Oh, boy," Hiyori let out a soft snort, carefully pushing Yato's hand away from its tenuous position before sliding onto her back. She cleared her hair away from his face while still trying to keep herself covered. His hand drifted open on her stomach, giving her goosebumps.

"It was our anniversary," he yawned, his eyes still unopened.

"In your dream?"

"No, when we went," his eyes slowly blinked open, the blue intensified in the morning light. "I wanted us to go then because it would be six months since you asked to be my friend. Lame, right?"

"You remembered that date?"

"Yeah, well, it's not that hard, the numbers are easy to remember and…" he let himself trail off, a blush starting to rise on his cheeks. Hiyori rolled towards him, anxiously aware that the sheet wasn't really coming with her, but she put her hand to his cheek anyway, trying to guide his face to hers. "Hiyori, I have morning breath and you don't know what happens to guys right about this time do you and-" It didn't phase her and he didn't seem interested in putting up any more defenses, letting his lips meet hers.

"OK," Yukine busted the door practically off its hinges, hands on his hips. "Yato, this is a wellness check. Please do not try to touch me, just affirm that you are alive since it's 10 AM and I haven't heard anything-"

"Yukine!" Hiyori shot up from the bed, scrambling to make sure that the sheet came with her.

"Hiyori!" Yukine's voice shot up an octave, cracking at the end of her name. "What are you two doing?"

Yato curled an arm around Hiyori's shoulders, pulling her towards him. "You see, Yukine, when a mommy and daddy love each other very much-"

"Yato," Hiyori groaned. "Nothing happened!"

"But you're naked," Yukine's voice split again.

"Topless," Yato corrected as he got up from the bed, putting an arm around Yukine's shoulders and turning his attention from Hiyori. "You have to get into the habit of knocking."

Hiyori used this opportunity to grab her clothes from the floor, making sure her back was to them before hastily putting on her bra and t-shirt.

"So, everything's OK?" Yukine refused to move his head, focusing on Yato's face with a nervous smile.

"Yes," Hiyori made the approach, now fully dressed, her hand coming to Yukine's hair for a tousle.

"Hiyori's going to be your new mommy!" Yato went to pinch Yukine's cheek but was attacked from both directions, on his hand from Yukine and his head from Hiyori.

"As if you're anything like a father," Yukine wriggled out of Yato's arm, rolling his eyes at the trembling lip Yato was trying to put on. "But you're actually going to stay with this dunce?"

"Well, yeah," Hiyori smiled, trying to wipe away Yato's grumbling with a hug.

"You were supposed to stand up for me," Yato whined.

"It's what you get for the mommy daddy comments," Hiyori gave him a little tap on the ribs, hearing him fake the wind being knocked out of him.

"But I'm not wrong. You're… going to be with me?"

"Yuck!" Yukine mimed nausea, walking away from the saccharine scene.

"We're together, yeah, more than friends," Hiyori sighed exhaustedly at her own eloquence.

"Lovers?" He wiggled his eyebrows, somehow not looking the most foolish he ever had.

Hiyori cupped his face in her hands. "You're my boyfriend, OK? But if you say that word again, it's over, got it?"


	8. Friends and Guides

Short update, enjoy! More fluff and filler, but we might be venturing into dangerous territory next update!

* * *

Yato's fingers drummed on the edge of the table, his coffee cooling in front of him. The arrangement was to meet after school, but Yato's job pool had been a little light this week so he had arrived with time to spare but nothing necessarily to entertain himself. But diversion wasn't something Yato would have to wait for since as he dipped his head to take a sip from his coffee cup, a body filled the seat across from him. The tawny eyes pierced through him, his hand instantly crushing into the sides of the ceramic cup. "Iki-san!"

"Yes, and I know you're meeting Hiyori here, but we have something to discuss first." Without any other acknowledgment, Sayuri waved over the waitress, ordering a green tea while Yato sat sweating. "She doesn't know I'm here, of course, but she did leave her phone out, which makes information fair game as far as I'm concerned."

Yato gulped, formulating his words carefully. "I'm glad you'd want to talk with me."

"I apologize for making you leave so hastily, it was unfair." Yato waited for the _but_. Instead, Sayuri stripped her coat from her shoulders, draping it and her bag over the rest of the bench next to her.

He appreciated the actual apology, something he wasn't exactly privy to a majority of the time. "No, it's understandable, Hiyori - I put you in a strange position."

"Don't excuse my daughter from blame," Sayuri sighed. "Though, her admitted involvement was a surprise. But she said you were the one who saved her that day, in the park?" She examined him as if it were written on his face as well.

"I did my best." Yato tried another sip of his coffee, finding its bitterness a welcome alternative to the dry nervousness of his mouth.

"And now you're living with Kazuma? The one my daughter is still technically engaged to?" Yato tried to study her face, to see if she was baiting him, but it seemed more like exasperation, Sayuri completely lacking accurate facts of her daughter's life.

"I am." Yato tried a deep breath, knowing he was wading into dangerous territory. "Hiyori had said that she and Kazuma, well, they're just friends."

"Yes, I suppose so." Sayuri sat back as the waitress brought her tea, only tapping a finger to the side of the cup to test the temperature. "And your brother lives with you? You're his guardian?"

Yato's eyebrows creased. "Yukine?"

This answer had been a misstep, evident from Sayuri's hesitant reply. "Yes, unless you have more family that Hiyori hasn't made me aware of."

"No, he's just, he's my half-brother and we didn't exactly grow up together, so this is kind of new for both of us." A comfortable enough lie and the smile that spread across Yato's lips was genuine, imagining the scathing remarks Yukine would have for Sayuri if he knew this part of the conversation.

"But you're now responsible for him. Where are your parents?" Sayuri didn't seem interested in holding back, pausing only to blow a breath to cool her tea.

"Dead." Any embellishment on this wouldn't win him any points, and Yato hoped that Hiyori hadn't given some other answer that he was now throwing asunder.

"I apologize, that was crass of me." Sayuri's eyes actually broke from his, closing for a moment as her cup met her lips for a sip of tea. When they opened again, there was less of a pressure to them, perhaps even an understanding there that wasn't before. "And your plans for the future?"

The loaded question hit Yato in the face, too many answers vying for the top. _I plan to avoid my father for as long as possible. I plan to make sure I keep my promises to Yukine. I plan to kiss Hiyori as much as possible so she can't forget me._ He couldn't stop a blush from eking out across his cheeks. "Planning too much ahead always makes me nervous. I guess the best answer I can give you is I plan to make people happy, your daughter included."

Sayuri lips tightened to hide a smile, pausing to take another long sip from her cup. "We have to make some ground rules, Yato."

"I'm sorry, what?" Yato blinked.

"As of right now, my husband will continue to think Hiyori is barely interested in her current engagement with Kazuma. I think he secretly hopes she'll go to school to be a doctor like him and put off the family life for a little." Sayuri sighed, setting her chin on her hand. "Hiyori will continue visiting at your apartment as long as it does not interfere with her schooling or her health."

"Of course." Yato's fingers clenched into the sides of the table, trying to plant his excitement there.

"And you'll start to put real thought into those future plans. Happiness isn't always the easiest gift to give if we don't find our own first." Sayuri took another sip of her tea, this time a knowing smile curving over the edge of the cup.

_My happiness_? And as if it were a request, Hiyori popped into the shop.

* * *

Hiyori couldn't slow her excited steps at the sight of him, the way that overenthusiastic smile almost split his face. But she couldn't help her attention instantly sparking to the back of a brunette head sitting in the seat across from him. She saw the coat and suddenly noticed the color of the blouse, the coral pink that was one of her favorites. "Mom?" Hiyori's voice bordered on frantic.

"Hello, darling," Sayuri turned, the smile on her face still not assuaging Hiyori's anxiety.

"What are you doing here?" Hiyori froze at the end of the table, watching as both parties scooted to make room for her. This choice felt like a trap. With a deep breath, Hiyori slid herself next to Yato, her heart thumping as he reflexively wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Yato and I were just getting to know each other." Hiyori didn't enjoy the smile on her mother's face, one she'd seen many times when her mother knew too much while Hiyori knew too little.

Hiyori licked her lips, trying to find words that didn't sound angry, "I already explained-"

"Don't panic," Sayuri reached out and smoothed her fingers over her daughter's hand. "The rules for your life are the same as always, don't ruin your health or your grades."

"But, Yato," Hiyori was silenced by another tap from her mother's hand on hers.

"Yato seems interesting, to say the least," Sayuri smiled again, that damn smile that made Hiyori wonder if she'd ever know the extent of the conversation that was had without her. "I wouldn't mind meeting for tea again, Yato, especially after you've considered things some more."

"Give me a little time, but sure, Iki-san." Hiyori noticed with distinct displeasure that Yato was trying to avoid eye contact with her.

"Well, I'll let you two have your date. I'd appreciate it if Hiyori was home early tonight, perhaps for dinner." Sayuri slipped back into her coat and perched her bag back on her arm.

"No problem." Yato gently coaxed Hiyori out of the seat so he could stand, extending a hand to Sayuri. "Thank you for hearing me out."

Her eyes widened momentarily before taking Yato's hand, shaking it. "Happiness, right?" Sayuri looked at her daughter for a moment, Hiyori feeling like her mother was seeing too much of her at that moment as if Yato had laid her bare. She turned, leaving the couple standing there.

"I'm not even sure which question I want to ask you first," Hiyori huffed back into the seat, looking up expectantly at Yato.

Yato slipped across from her, stealing his coffee back to his new side of the table. He lingered over another bitter sip. "Mothers love me, what can I say?"

Hiyori nudged him under the table with her foot. "And what's this about happiness?"

He leaned forward, his hand coming under his chin for support. Those ocean blue eyes sparked brighter for a moment, further accented by the blush that rose on his cheeks. "I'm going to make you happy, Hiyori."

* * *

Yato's feelings kept revolving around in a circle, stopping to be proud of Yukine killing it at studying, to be jealous of the way Hiyori would alternate between physical affection and sweet words, and to be scared to death of the way she would crack the whip when Yukine wasn't attentive enough. She was dangerous as a teacher, and Yato found himself quietly listening to them from the safety of the couch in the living room for fear that he would incur some sort of wrath just for breathing in their general direction.

By hour two, Yato couldn't control himself anymore and slunk into Yukine's room, seeing the sideways glance from the blond boy as Yato threw himself onto Yukine's bed. "I swear, Yato, if you get one drip of your nasty sweat on my bedspread-"

"Concentrate," Hiyori hissed, not even looking Yato's way.

"How much longer, Hiyori?" Yukine let his head sink to the desk, absently tapping his pencil against his hair. "I really don't think I'm going to get this."

"You will. Just one more look, OK?" Yato bristled at the way she tousled Yukine's hair. It wasn't even romantic, he knew that, and that's not even what he was jealous of. Just even a hint of that maternal stuff, those touches that he never got, made him crazed with jealousy.

"Yeah." Yukine exhaled a sigh as he lifted his head again, pencil trailing along the paper, trying to see a new solution in the lines of numbers. He finally scribbled something, pointing at it for Hiyori.

She smiled and clapped her hands. "Great!" She started to pack up things on the desk, tucking a couple of books under her arm. "Homework is the rest of that section."

"All of it?" Yukine grumbled, slinking down in his chair.

"Yes, every last one. You've got it, now make sure it sticks." Hiyori turned to Yato, his impatience dissolving at the smile on her face. "I could stay a little while longer, Yato…"

"You have school tomorrow," he sighed, half hiding his face in Yukine's comforter. "So you should just let Yukine walk you home."

"Me?" Yukine shot his head around to look at Yato. "Why can't you do it, you lazy-"

"That'd be nice, Yukine," Hiyori took a flustered Yukine's hand.

"Yeah, alright." He was slow to get up, slipping his hand from Hiyori's before stopping at his bedside. "But no lying in my bed while I'm gone. It's going to smell all gross."

"Yeah, yeah," Yato waved him off, pulling himself from the bed. He headed out of the room, feeling Hiyori close on his tail, Yukine still seeming to hang back, unsure of how he got himself in this position. As they got to the door, Hiyori and Yukine stopping to slip on their shoes, Yato let a soft hand slide to the small of her back, reeling her in closer to him as she stood. It wasn't a kiss as short as he had originally planned, knowing that Yukine would be almost instantaneously objecting with his regular teenage flair. Instead, she forced him to linger, her hand shooting towards the back of his neck to keep him pinned where she wanted.

"See you tomorrow."

He hated seeing her walk out, that kiss and a placid smile the last thing he'd get from her that evening. But he was trying to be good, trying to be whatever a boyfriend was supposed to be, trying not to let those feelings of wanting to possess all of her drive him somewhere close to crazy.

* * *

Hiyori took his hand again, regardless of the unnerved fluster of his face. Neither of them got this kind of attention, and she was willing to give it to both of them and surprised that Yato was willing to share in any way, shape, or form. "Did you give any thought to real school, Yukine?"

"Nah," he shrugged, still trying to process her hand in his. "There would be too many questions. I'm better off studying with you and then Kazuma said he'd let me intern as soon as I'm far enough."

_Of course he did._ Regardless of the night breeze, Hiyori could feel that warmth growing in her stomach at the thought. Kazuma was taking Yukine under his wing and letting him actually grow, and Yato was supporting it. It was like all of her boys were growing up! "You must be so excited."

"Yeah." She could hear the reservation in his voice, the attempt to clamp down the real intensity of his pleasure underneath. "Hiyori, how's stuff with Yato? He hasn't… well, he hasn't said anything has he?"

"What do you mean?" The streets were flying by them, but Hiyori tried to slow, to tease out the mystery in Yukine's conversation. "I did… I asked him about your past, Yukine, once."

Yukine's steps halted, pulling at her hand. "Me?"

"He said it was up to you to share. He wouldn't even let me press him." She watched patiently as Yukine processed this, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Yato's different now," he blurted forcefully, his thoughts still running across his face. "What he was when we met versus now, there's no comparison." Yukine forced himself to take steps forward, urging her to move with him with a squeeze of his hand. "I just wanted to know if he'd told you what he used to be like."

"No…" Hiyori let herself be pulled along, unsure if she did want to ultimately waste time, to maybe find something out. She had told Kazuma that Yato would tell her if he wanted to, but some of it, some of those things that seemed to lurk behind that black screen, she desperately wanted to know.

"Maybe you're better off never knowing," Yukine breathed as if reading her mind. "He's better now. You're making him better."

"We're all making him better, Yato included," Hiyori corrected. "He doesn't just want to change for me, but for you, too, Yukine."

"Sure." His answer was less than convincing, but Hiyori had run out of time, her house now in sight. She stopped there since Yukine shouldn't really rile up her mother's suspicions, but better safe than sorry, or better safe than another cafe conversation with her mother.

"Yukine, one more thing." Hiyori let go of his hand and watched as the boy turned from her as if working hard not to meet her eyes. "If you do want to talk, about anything, I want you to know I'll listen. I don't want to just to your tutor."

He rolled his eyes. "Ugh, don't start that Yato-daddy-mommy stuff, I don't need it."

"No, I'm definitely not going to be your mom," Hiyori laughed, finally getting him to bring his eyes to her face. "But I want to be your friend."

* * *

Yato had counted every last line in both palms by the time Yukine came back. It was already obvious on the boy's face that he was in some kind of preteen conflict, but Yato had put off the discussion long enough. "Yukine-"

"I'm tired, Yato." Yukine quickly sped up, shrinking the distance between him and his door, but Yato was right there, already inserting himself in the frame, keeping Yukine from slamming the door shut.

"Just a quick chat, that's all, nothing-"

"If it's the birds and the bees, I know it. Hiyori made it home fine, no thanks to you. What else do you need?" Yukine threw himself back on his bed, his eyes half-lidded as he looked at Yato in the doorway.

"I want you to be happy." That stunned Yukine into a silence that finally allowed Yato more than just a half-sentence. "Do you want to go to a real school? I could probably get you some fake credentials, even get you in at Hiyori's school."

"No," Yukine sat up, his voice drifting hesitantly.

"You're growing up though, don't you want friends? Maybe even the chance to get away from me?" Yato tried to offer up that goofy smile, but the thought of Yukine leaving him seemed to dampen the enthusiasm.

"Oh, so you're trying to get rid of me now." Yukine's arms crossed his chest, his back thumping against the headboard.

Yato sighed, a hand coming to his face, "That's not it!"

Yukine's arms relaxed, the cross drifting into an _x_ in his lap. "I don't… I guess I don't need anything much more than this. Kazuma, Hiyori, and _you_."

"OK." Yato leaned against the frame of the door. "But I need you to do one thing for me, Yukine."

"Here it is," Yukine grumbled under his breath.

"I need your help with, well, with everything." Yato threw up his hands, finding the confusion on Yukine's face humorous enough to let that grin creep across his face.

"What?"

"You know what I was," Yato cleared his throat. "I need you to make sure I'm doing better and telling me if I'm not. I know you're never one to really hold back, so I know you can do that for me. Like a guide or something."

"A guide?" Yukine's face still held onto its skepticism, but his tone was warming, hopeful.

"Will you take the job?"

Yukine finally let a smile grace his lips. "Will it pay more than five yen?"


	9. In the Ring

Long update since I made you wait so long. I wasn't sure how I was going to do both Ebisu and Baby Ebisu, but I think I've figured it out. I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

Hiyori finally exited Yukine's room, another night of studying now pleasantly mixed with tidbits of conversation and advice purposefully cut short. It was difficult to balance her time between each one of them, and she hoped that Yato would take a quick kiss in exchange for an extra half hour to catch up with Kazuma who seemed to still be holding onto the secrets of his post-Capypa dealings with Veena. It was the look on Yato's face that froze her in her tracks, any thoughts of Kazuma fleeing from her mind.

It's not that Yato was looking at her, but in a petrified terror in front of the TV screen, his hands clenched tightly into his thighs.

"Yato?" Hiyori rushed to him, her hands unsure of what to comfort first, resting on one of his.

Her voice seemed to come as a reminder to breathe and he gulped, his eyes flitting from the screen to her, but only momentarily.

Hiyori focused on the program, a special news report, one of those late-night fillers that were nothing more than an unhealthy amount of fear-mongering. A cult was working in the secret underground of the city. Men in masks following the orders of a man whose face apparently changes. There was a shot of a young woman, looking barely older than Yukine with black hair and deep purple eyes, her arms splattered in kanji tattoos. Next to her, a young man Hiyori's age, with brown hair and eyes fiery red, the current "face" of the organization. She turned back to watch his face fade from dread to vexation, his hands slowly relaxing into hers as he clicked off the TV.

"You know them." It didn't come out as a question, Hiyori would consider herself stupid if she didn't already know the answer.

"Nora and Fujisaki." He cleared his throat, "They're in the city. This city."

"That scares you."

"It's complicated," Yato swallowed. He moved too quickly for her, his hands coming to her face, holding her in place so that her eyes had nowhere to go but his. "But promise me, if you see either of them, if something happens to me, you go to Kofuku and Daikoku."

"I promise." She hated the feeling of naivete, her inability to grasp that all signs had pointed to danger with him from the beginning. Except, Hiyori could swear there was a red string tied to their pinkies.

His arms slid from her face, drifting past her hair to shoulders and then her back, pulling Hiyori tightly to him. "I know it's getting late, but can I have some of your time?"

Guilt tickled at the back of her throat at the question. "You can have as much as you want, Yato."

"That's a pretty risky offer." The warm breath of his laugh flowed across the skin of her neck.

Hiyori managed to get out of his almost stranglehold on her shoulders, moving to stand from the couch. "Don't abuse it, Yato."

"Where are you going?" Yato tried for her hand but she was already out of his range.

"Your room." Hiyori tried to saunter but found herself rushing into his room as if to keep herself from losing the nerve. The last time they were here, well, she let herself get half-naked and that barely made it feel like they were close enough. This new territory was both terrifying and intoxicating and Yato never seemed far off the same course.

"That might be even riskier." Yato kept his distance, standing with his back to the door he closed behind him as Hiyori took a spot on the bed.

"Don't you want to be alone with me?" The color flared in her cheeks and Hiyori laid out on the bed, one hand coming up to cover her face and the view of Yato. "Don't answer that." She couldn't possibly look at him, expecting some kind of smugness there. Her heart galloped as she felt the bed sag under his weight.

"Can we, I want what we did the other night." Hiyori moved her arm in time to see Yato strip off his shirt, tossing it to the ground. He eased himself next to her, not bothering to face her but offering just his scar littered back. "No peeking, I swear."

"No peeking," Hiyori repeated.

"Cross my heart."

She sat up slowly, looking over his shoulder to find he had even shut his eyes. It was a slower process this time, not thinking necessarily about surprise but of fleeting feelings of modesty that broke away to the admission that she wanted the same thing. Hiyori avoided just tossing, folding her shirt and her bra before carefully placing it on the floor next to the bed. As she laid down, she pulled the sheet over them, definitely feeling the cool of the room before her skin met his. As her hand drifted from his side to his chest, he clutched at it, enclosing her fingers with his. "No falling asleep this time."

* * *

Yato was sure he'd never be able to sleep tonight, not after seeing those faces on the screen. His first urge had been to leave the apartment, to search and get a feeling for where his father's following had been spread in the city. But he saw her first, felt her hands on his and instead just found the raw fear of losing this tower of cards he'd built. Now he was right where he didn't and did belong, her body pressed so perfectly against his back, her breath cascading across his shoulder. "You'll have to keep me awake with a story, Hiyori."

"Doesn't that usually put people to sleep?" She laughed and he felt his heart flutter as it reverberated against his back.

"Guess I've always been different then." Yato opened his eyes, scanning his side of the room. He wanted to look in her eyes, but he also didn't want her to see through him, how much he was still carrying.

"Let me think." Another sigh against his shoulder, sending a tingle down his spine. She was quiet for long enough that Yato was afraid that she had fallen asleep but a huff of a sigh alerted him to her still struggling through the thought process. "A few years ago was the first time I got a love letter in my locker."

"Are you trying to make me jealous?" He blurted, squeezing her hand.

"You can't interrupt a story. Wait for the end," Hiyori sighed and gave him a moment to object again. Yato tried to do as he was told but couldn't help but think this was just going to add to his sleeplessness that night. "I threw it out. Ami and Yama were mortified! But it just didn't… it wasn't something that felt like it should be treasured. A few months later, he tried admitting to my face, and I suppose I should have felt flustered and overwhelmed but the only thing I could muster was feeling sorry for him. And then my parents _picked_ Kazuma. You have to swear you won't tell him I told you the next part."

"What is it?"

"Swear first," Hiyori giggled.

Yato was starting to feel more desperate to be face to face, "OK, I promise I won't tell Kazuma."

Hiyori had to finish her laughing first and she had to take a deep breath to finally calm the swell. "The first time we were alone, he tried to kiss me! Oh, I thought he was going to die-"

"Kazuma kissed you?" It was too much and Yato found himself rolling in her grip, turning to face her as Hiyori struggled to keep herself covered.

"Hey! Turn back over."

"Did he kiss you?"

"No!" Hiyori stifled a laugh, bringing the sheet to her mouth for a moment. "I was saying, I thought he was going to die of embarrassment when I put a hand to his chest and said it was alright. He had told me after that my mother had suggested it, a seal-the-deal type of thing I guess, but I told him it wasn't necessary." Her smile slipped back into view as she let the sheet settle, "I didn't want him to be my first kiss. I had started to think that I didn't want one at all and maybe love letters and admissions weren't something for me."

"You kissed me." Yato's hand wandered under the sheet, slipping from the side of her waist to her back, pulling Hiyori closer to him.

"That's why I told you to wait for the end of the story. You don't have any patience." Hiyori clicked her tongue, "But if you don't give me a little more room I'm afraid I won't be able to finish." Yato relinquished in his tug of war with her, letting her keep an inch or two of the distance between their bodies. "You technically stole my first kiss. I didn't really have a choice."

"Mouth to mouth doesn't count," Yato snorted. "Plus, it's not like you were even conscious."

"That was the closest a guy had ever gotten! It counts." Hiyori brought her hands to his chest, finding a scar to focus her fingers and her sight on. "And I know it sounds crazy, but I could swear I watched you do it. I watched how desperate you were to save me. It hit me then that I was just missing the right piece. It's not that I didn't want it, I didn't want it from anyone else but you. I tried to reason that with all the things in the way, what was the point of fighting, but there's something about you, Yato, that just erases all of the cautions in my mind."

"That might not be a good thing," Yato sighed out.

"So far, it is," Hiyori bit her lip, "But I feel like the more secrets you keep from me the more we get closer to it going bad. Like a kid's story, there's a moral here: be honest. Tell me, even if it's just a little at a time." She fingered the scar on his chest again, "You took a step that night, can you take another tonight?"

"It depends on what you want to know," but that wasn't true. Yato knew as soon as she asked he'd answer.

"If you see those people, Fujisaki and Nora, will they hurt you?"

"No, it's not like that," Yato sighed. "But they know me as a different person, and they'll expect that person to come back to them. My father will want me back with them, doing his dirty work."

"And saying no is impossible?" Hiyori ran her fingers through his hair as if she knew it would keep him grounded to her even with that question in the air.

"I've never been able to." Yato tightened his grip on her, canceling the space between them, her hands the only thing keeping their chests from touching. "Please," he whispered before capturing her mouth with a force that had her gasp in his mouth.

Hiyori used her hands for leverage, giving her just enough space to breathe. "You're trying to change the subject," she whispered breathlessly.

"Please, let me," he nipped at her lip, trying to pull her into another kiss.

"One more," she whispered, still keeping the distance between them with her hands on his chest. "Am I right, thinking you feel like it's us or them? That Yukine and I can't exist in your life if they do?"

Yato let out a long breath, lowering his face so his cheek touched hers. "I don't know if that's it. I know it's not safe for either of you with them."

"Which one do you want, Yato?" She relaxed her hands, leaving him to his own devices.

He pressed himself against her, his face buried in the crick of her neck. "I'm sure that you wouldn't want to be with the version of me they know."

"That's not what I asked you." Hiyori's arms wrapped around him, his weight strangely comfortable on her, despite the threat of losing a little air.

"I want you," his words were small, so delicate she imagined them like a bubble popping against her ear.

Hiyori brushed one of her hands through his hair, the other grazing the skin of his back. "If I can't forget you, you can't forget that, OK?"

* * *

This was going to be hard to explain to her mother was the first thought that entered Hiyori's mind as she woke up that morning, once again finding herself half-naked in Yato's bed. After their conversation, she had stupidly assumed they'd, well, get closer to that line that they had been flirting with crossing. Instead, Yato had kind of crumbled, crying into her shoulder for what seemed like agonizing hours. Hiyori started to wonder if all she was good at was ruining the mood.

And of course, she was, with all her stupid questions that dug into his old wounds just so she could try to carve out some kind of spot for herself. She started to wonder if this was just selfishness, that she was just tearing him apart between two realities because of a crush. _Don't be stupid, it's not a crush_. Hiyori turned her head, finding herself face to face with Yato, his hand still delicately draped across her stomach. That feeling swept up from the pit of her stomach to her chest, kick-starting her heart: It wasn't a crush.

As if on cue, Yato's hand flexed at her side, his eyes starting slowly to peek open as he adjusted to the morning light in the room. "You stayed," he murmured.

"Yeah," Hiyori couldn't help but feel her voice filled with hesitation, her last thoughts biting at the heels of her words. "It's Sunday, so I won't hear too much from Mom."

"I'm sure you're telling her you're sleeping on the couch, too," Yato smirked.

"Mom assumes Kazuma acts as a mother hen." Hiyori rolled on her side, her back to him so she could slide into a sitting position, still only giving him a view of her bare back. "I should probably go back."

"Yeah, of course." Maybe it was wishful thinking, but she could swear she was hearing the indecision in his voice as well. She reached down for her clothes but only got so far as to put them in her lap before she felt the bed shift, feeling the warmth of his body hovering behind her. Only his hand snaked around her, pinning her arm to her side, slow fingers hesitantly crawling from her hip to pause at her stomach. "Come back tomorrow after school. I'll take you out, just us. But no questions tomorrow, I want you to just be happy, Hiyori."

"I am," Hiyori protested.

"No, happier than that." With his hand inching closer, his chest finally came to her back while his head peeked over her shoulder. "I keep taking from you, giving you all the mess of my past." The burn in her cheeks was only rivaled by the one starting to develop just below her stomach, something twisting inside of her as his fingers caressed the swell of her breast, running up the curve and then over, creating almost discomfort in her at the quickness of the touch. His hand wouldn't stay but drifted up to her neck, tilting her chin to expose her neck where he placed a delicate kiss. "You told me not to forget that I want you."

* * *

Hiyori stood in front of the door, forcing a few extra breaths. That had been all day today, catching her breath, trying to clear her face of the blush every time her mind would playback Sunday morning, her body reliving the flutter of his fingers from her stomach to her neck. It felt like too much and not enough all at the same time, and a part of her was ready to admit that she could melt into that sensation and let it take her. The other was firmly holding onto those breaths, telling herself that this was dangerous territory to be flitting into with a crush.

"It's not a crush," she murmured to the door. _I think I_… She turned her key in the lock and almost instantly ran into Yato just a few steps from the entryway. Her hand came to her mouth, trying to cover the sound of the intake of breath, as her eyes finally processed him in his entirety.

Gone was the tracksuit, replaced with black slacks and a white band collared shirt, a modernized haori in a warm gray slipping slightly off his shoulders as if he were about to take it off. Yato's face was the most colorful aspect of the outfit, his cheeks reddening as he shoved his hands in his pockets, his eyes focusing anywhere but her. "What are you laughing about?"

"I'm not laughing!" Hiyori moved to him, fixing the haori back on his shoulders, letting her fingers appreciate the silkiness of the material.

"I told Yukine this was stupid," he muttered.

"It's not stupid." Hiyori leaned in, brushing her lips against his before calling out into the apartment. "Great choice, Yukine!"

"I know," came the barely audible reply, Yukine not bothering to come out of his room.

"He said he didn't want to see the romance, so he's staying in there until we leave." Yato fiddled with the coat, forcing Hiyori to fix him again. "He seems to think my tracksuit is the reason we haven't, you know."

"You talked to him about that?" She suddenly wished there was more of a collar to choke him with. "He's fourteen!"

"Not about _that_, I meant really gone out!" Yato brought her closer with an arm around her waist, his voice now only for her to hear. "But the going out… first, it was your family, now it's mine. But I want to be normal, tonight, Hiyori. I want to show you that I can."

Hiyori let her head rest on his chest, listening to the uptick in the beat of his heart. "I'm not sure normal is something either of us is capable of."

Yato's body relaxed against hers, the beat against her ears slowing, a laugh droning it out. "Maybe you're right. How about at least some fun?"

"As long as it's not Capypa Land." She turned her eyes to him skeptically, making sure that this wasn't actually a trap.

"When are you going to admit that you had just as much fun as I did?" Yato started to move her towards the door and Hiyori let herself slip from his arms, still eyeing him suspiciously. "No Capypa, I promise."

"Where, then?"

Yato was already directing her out of the apartment and towards the elevator, hitting the button with all the excitement of a child. "Patience, Hiyori."

"You're one to talk!" Hiyori found his hand in the sleeve of his haori just as the doors to the elevator opened, letting them enter into the mirrored room. She found herself entranced by the reflection, the way they really did look like a couple. She had luckily rushed home and changed from her uniform, and while she had not expected his change, she seemed to have fallen into step with him, wearing a simple white dress with a grey belt. _Normal on the surface only_ something whispered.

"If you're looking for something wrong, don't bother." Yato turned her towards him with a pull of her hand. "You look beautiful."

"That's not it," Hiyori smiled. "I was just looking at us. Nothing bad."

Yato opened his mouth but the ding of the elevator seemed to derail him, and he went back to guiding her forward to their secret destination. The two of them had almost made it to the door when Yato came to an abrupt halt, Hiyori still so focused on the mysteries of the day that she stopped only to find herself face to face with Kazuma and Veena.

"Yato, you look presentable," Kazuma smirked.

Yato huffed in return, eliciting laughs from both of the ladies.

"It's apparently a new date night look inspired by Yukine." Hiyori tried to raise his arm to show off but Yato didn't seem to be too keen to play along.

"Yukine has good taste," Veena offered some reassurance but it didn't seem to inspire the showman side of Yato. "Where are you two off to?"

"It's a surprise!" Yato seemed to come alive again, forgetting the teasing for the moment. "And you two?"

"Uh, I left some documents in the apartment." As Kazuma's smile stiffened she could see Yato's widen.

"And for the trouble, Kazuma's making me dinner." Veena nudged him, something Kazuma was obviously not ready for and he had to clear his throat.

Hiyori could see some inspired dialogue building in Yato's face, knowing the teasing was about to come, so she yanked his arm, forcing him at least one step forward. "Well, you enjoy! We have to get going. Come on, Yato." She thought she might have heard another word coming from his mouth so she tugged again, getting them safely past the door, a glass barrier between them and the other couple.

"Hold on, Hiyori!" Yato wrenched his hand away, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He intently typed before looking back up at her. "Sorry, we're going to have to wait here for a minute."

"What are you up to?" Hiyori didn't want to pry into his phone, but the smile on his face in reply made her curiosity flare.

"Oh, just told Yukine he's going over to Kofuku's," Yato's smile morphed into a smirk, slipping his phone back in his pocket. "We'll just have to drop him off."

"The apartment will be empty!" Hiyori gripped his arm.

"And if Kazuma messes this up there's no hope." But Yato didn't seem to show an ounce of doubt, his smirk still firmly affixed to his face.

"Don't jinx it." Hiyori ran her hand down his arm to lace her fingers with his. "But I've never even heard of Kazuma cooking."

"Sometimes." Yato shrugged, his smirk fading a little. "Yukine has the best success rate out of all of us."

"I'm starting to feel like the fourteen-year-old is the closest to an adult out of all of you."

"I am," Yukine huffed, emerging from the doorway out of breath, obviously having rushed to be out of the way. "I'm glad at least someone appreciates me."

"Adulthood is overrated." Yato used his other arm to sling around Yukine's shoulders. "And I always appreciate you. Just like now, saving you from that romance stuff that you're so dead set against."

"Kazuma at least gives Veena breathing room." Yukine leaned out of Yato's arms, moving to Hiyori's side to protect from any other physical affection. Yato shrugged off the rejection, moving the group forward to the car, once again borrowed from Daikoku. "Are Kazuma and Veena…?"

Hiyori shrugged at Yukine, "Fingers crossed at this point."

"She is really pretty," Yukine wondered aloud. "Kazuma's kind of…"

"People don't always end up with exactly who you expect," Hiyori smiled as Yukine's eyes met hers.

"Especially in this group," Yukine sighed, motioning a lame hand towards Yato.

"Be nice," Hiyori chided.

Yato opened the passenger side doors, making a sweeping motion to both of his charges. Yukine threw himself in the back seat with a sigh, closing the door before Yato could, while Hiyori allowed herself the special treatment. Yato slipped into the driver's seat, turning back to Yukine. "You can come with us if you want. Ebisu and Baby Ebi will be there."

"Why would you see him?" Hiyori glanced back at the tone of Yukine's voice, finding him averting his eyes to save Hiyori from something there, his lips pressed in a thin line with his jaw tight.

"I just called in a favor. Plus, I haven't seen the kid in a while, I kinda miss him." Yato smiled regardless of the look on Yukine's face and turned his attention back to driving. He pulled out into traffic. "Yes or no?"

"No." Yukine sat up and clipped his seatbelt, his eyes hovering there intently as if it were a Gordian knot. "Just leave me with Daikoku. But… I hope you're being careful."

"Careful is my middle name," Yato chimed, punctuating his comment with the squeal of a tire in a hard turn. Hiyori clenched into the seat, momentarily forgetting the hesitation, almost fear, on Yukine's face at the mention of this Ebisu. But her thoughts weren't really allowed to stay collected, thrown from one end of the car to the other with Yato's erratic driving. She was white-knuckled by the time they made it to Kofuku's, Yukine opening the door before Yato even came to a complete stop. "I'll pick you by eight."

"Don't bother," Yukine waved off at the two of them. "I'll get Kazuma to pick me up after he drops off Veena." He was gone into the house before Yato could even object.

"I guess he doesn't have faith in Kazuma," Yato laughed.

Hiyori shook her head. "Wouldn't it be a little _quick_ if Veena spent the night?"

"Says the girl who stayed the night only a night after kissing me for the first time." A frown pulled at his features after his own comment as if rethinking his words. "It's just, they like each other, they've known each other for a while right? It's no big deal."

"I guess it's not if they actually feel something for each other." Hiyori's mind flashed back to the other morning and she quickly turned her head to the window, watching the color burst across her reflection's cheeks.

"Yeah." His voice seemed far off and both anxiously let the conversation die.

Time now seemed to inch along until they finally came to a rather large industrial-style building, Yato parking the car next to a few others in the lot, a town car and a smaller limousine. She didn't wait for him to open her door, instead, jumping out to try to find some kind of clue on the side of the building. Her eyes ran down the list of businesses, only one catching her eyes, but it couldn't possibly be that. She'd never said a word to him.

"Come on, they're already here." Hiyori felt his hand come to the small of her back, ushering her towards the side door not far from where they parked. He knocked three times and a tall, burly man came into view as the door cracked open. "Hey, Kunimi."

Yato got a grunt as a greeting before Kunimi turned and hollered over his shoulder, "Waka, Yato's here." The door groaned the rest of the way open and Hiyori couldn't help her surprise as a little boy, probably no older than six, came rushing through the door.

"Baby Ebi!" Yato voice was shrill with glee. Hiyori had assumed Baby Ebi was some kind of gangster name, a handle for a man with face tattoos, but it was just a kid, practically a baby and just as clumsy as one. The little boy almost made it to Yato before his own feet seemed to tie together, sending him sprawling out on the floor. Yato scooped him up almost immediately, lifting the small boy over his head. "I thought Kunimi was supposed to be teaching you coordination."

"I told you, by his teens, hopefully," Kunimi sighed.

Hiyori trailed a little behind, watching spellbound as Yato talked quietly with the little boy. It was another side she hadn't seen of his and something about it made her heart leap into her throat.

Yato finally seemed to remember himself, turning back towards Hiyori. "Hey, Ebi, this is Hiyori. She's my girlfriend."

Ebi looked from Yato to Hiyori and back again before frowning, "Not possible."

"Ebi," Yato groaned, letting the little boy back to his feet. "Ask her yourself."

This time his feet did not betray him thanks to the smaller distance and Ebi made it safely to Hiyori's side, pulling on her dress. "Are you really?"

"Yes." Hiyori found herself crouching down to study the little boy. He was well-groomed like a little prince with an outfit looking like something out of a charm school, a sweater vest over a button-down shirt, shorts and high socks.

"Why?" Ebi blinked, his confusion genuine.

"Don't answer that." Yato snatched the little boy off the ground again, holding him closely. "Whose side are you on, Ebi? You're supposed to be helping me out."

Ebi only laughed in reply, pausing to look over Yato's shoulder again at Hiyori. He watched her for just a moment before turning his attention back to Yato, whispering in his ear. Hiyori could hear Yato laugh, short and nervous before beginning to walk towards a door opposite to where they'd just entered. This seemed like nothing more than a waiting area, but Hiyori still wasn't sure what waited beyond the blackened door.

Kunimi locked the front door behind them and proceeded to squeeze in front of Yato, opening the door for the three of them. As they entered, the air left Hiyori's lungs. It was exactly the only thing on the list of businesses that had anything to do with her, but how he knew was beyond her. The room was littered with various exercise equipment, weights that looked agonizingly heavy and strange machines that could double as medieval torture devices. A practice ring was in the middle of the room, and in it, in all his glory, was Touno.

* * *

Yato had expected excitement, but he hadn't prepared himself for fangirling that was comparable to him at Capypa Land. At first, he watched as Hiyori was barely able to form sentences through the introduction, Yato having to go through the generic _she's-a-big-fan_ lines before it finally clicked in Hiyori's head that her idol, Touno, was here just to meet her. As soon as that happened, it was a deluge of questions, comments, analysis of various fights with dates, years, and times memorized. Even Touno seemed in shock for the first ten minutes.

While spending time with her was ultimately always his goal, he hung back, let her worship at the golden calf for a while. He had Ebi still in his arms, and he looked around for the original, finally seeing him seated at a desk in the corner, not exactly looking ready for company. Yato slowly made his way over, Kunimi trailing close behind as if he were sure Ebi was going to go flying even if he wasn't the one moving. "Hey, Ebisu, how's the head?"

"I assume you mean my memory," the older Ebisu lifted his head from his work. There was a smile there for Yato, but as it had since the incident, it seemed fractured, only half emotion there. "I'm told it's the same."

"I'm otosan's memory," Ebi corrected.

"Yeah, make sure you hold on to all of it, kid." Yato put the boy down, watching as he joined Ebisu at his work, looking over the numbers like he actually understood it. "How's commerce?"

"I'm not sure you really want to know." Ebisu lifted the boy, a carbon copy of himself, onto his lap, letting the child run his fingers over the books. "But I hear you're moving up. A place to live, perhaps even an actual income?"

Yato gave a throaty laugh. "No, still odd jobs. But I guess some things are improving." His eyes drifted back to Hiyori, seeing her still in the throes of discussion, legs and hands working out the moves that she was describing. He couldn't pinpoint why watching her like this made him drugged with happiness.

"That's Yato's girlfriend!" Ebi pointed.

"Oh, so you called in a favor for her then? Interesting." Ebisu smile seemed to strengthen.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Yato rolled his eyes for the dramatics but finally brought himself back to a smile. "She deserves it, anyway, putting up with me and Yukine. I'll get her, let you meet her."

Yato was half out of the seat when Ebisu cleared his throat. "It's not important. I won't remember, anyway and chances are she won't see me again."

Those words sunk like a dagger into Yato's chest. "Hey, lighten up. Even if you don't remember, she always will. Trust me." He rubbed at the make-believe wound, trying to hide it as fixing a button on his shirt. "And this is a permanent acquaintance, Ebisu. I swear."

"If that's what she is, then by all means." Ebisu stood slowly, letting Ebi slip to the floor. The trio started to walk back to Hiyori, Ebi only getting a few steps before tripping himself, having to be narrowly saved by a quick-thinking Yato who grasped at his little sweater vest to right him on his feet. The kid had something worse than two left feet, that was for sure. When they reached her, Yato had to go so far as to put a hand on her shoulder for some attention away from her idol. "Hiyori, take a break for a second."

"Yato!" It was as if Hiyori had finally surfaced to reality and seen his face for the first time. "I can't believe you did this!"

"Well, it's more Ebisu, since he has hands in most of the successful companies in Japan. MMA just seems to be one of them, surprisingly." Yato spun Hiyori in Ebisu's direction.

"It's wonderful to meet you!" Hiyori's voice was breathy with excitement. "Thank you so much for doing this." She added a curt little bow.

Ebisu seemed to resist a smile long enough to analyze the girl in front of him until the grin would not hold. "It's no trouble. I'm glad we could meet." Yato was sure that Hiyori could charm anyone in her way, but that little voice chipped away at that thought, adding _even your father?_ as a refrain. He refused to falter, though, the overpowering mantra that he promised this would be a normal, happy night drowning out his momentary lapse.

Hiyori negotiated in her head with the next thought, her smile temporarily threatening to diminish. "How long have you and Yato known each other?"

"Since before I was born!" Ebi chimed, hugging at his father's leg. "I was born the day otosan had his accident."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Hiyori began to stutter.

Yato tightened an arm around her waist, ready to lean in her reassure her when Ebisu beat him to it. "It's nothing. It would have been worse if Yato hadn't been there."

"Yato saved you?" Hiyori looked up at him, noticing his face incongruous with the conversation, his jaw tight and his eyes tracking an unseen pattern on the ground.

"Maybe your memory is worse than I thought," Yato released under his breath.

"I owe you a debt," Ebisu almost shot back. He refocused his smile on Hiyori who was slowly coming down from her idol high and motioned back towards the ring where Touno and Kunimi had fled. "So take full liberties tonight. Why don't you try some practice?"

"I can?" It seemed to Yato she was asking more if she could separate from him, and he feared he'd already ruined a little of his promise, making her worry.

"Yeah, knock yourself out." As if to go against his words, his arm squeezed her closer, allowing him to steal a kiss from her lips. "Just not literally, OK?"

"No promises!" Hiyori sang as she scampered off to ring.

Yato started the walk to watch her from the sideline when he felt the tiny hand clamp on his pant leg. "You did the best you could. Otosan knows that even without me. Why don't you?"

"Man, kid, you are something else." Yato scooped him up, lifting him to the edge of the ring that Hiyori had already entered through. He watched the kid almost instantly get scooped up my Kunimi who put him on his shoulders. It was safer for him up there anyway, considering Hiyori was taking full advantage of the practice, not pulling her punches or even her kicks. As he leaned into the ring, he had finally started to see more of her strength and, for the moment, he was beginning to believe they'd be strong enough together.

* * *

Hiyori watched the streetlights stripe across his face. The overwhelming feeling of regret that this was the drive home was hitting her in waves, wishing tomorrow wasn't a school day or maybe that her mother wouldn't care if she was in past her curfew. "How did you know?" She finally broke the silence that had stuck between them since leaving Ebisu.

Yato snorted, his hand moving from the steering wheel to her thigh. "You talk in your sleep."

"What? No way." Hiyori slipped her hand over his, keeping it put since he had that dangerous habit of running it up and down the bare skin.

"Not that much, but when you said another guy's name I couldn't help but get jealous." His eyes flicked to her for a second, just to catch her expression as that amused look broke across his face.

"That's impossible!"

"Luckily when I mentioned it to Kazuma he was able to clarify that your obsession was at least one-sided." Regardless of her hand, he spread his fingers, squeezing the skin just enough to make the blush rise on her cheeks.

Hiyori huffed, "I don't know, Touno seemed very impressed with me tonight."

"It's hard not to be." His eyes were deliberately focused on the road and he detached his hand from her leg, taking it back to the steering wheel as if this required all his attention.

"But, really, thank you. It was perfect." She wanted his hand back and she considered reaching out for him but suddenly realized the familiarity of the neighborhood.

"I'm glad I could do that for you." That sentence came out of his mouth with a fight, as if the words were unfinished. His concentration was forced on the road, making the slow, deliberate turn into her driveway. Even though the car was now in park, he still seemed focused ahead. "Listen, Hiyori…"

"You said no questions, only happy, Yato." She felt desperate to hold onto all the joy of the day and feared what this face, this tone of voice could bring.

Thankfully, he laughed, that intense concentration breaking. His hands eased from the steering wheel to his lap, leaning back in the seat. "Less of a question and more of a warning." Yato turned his face to her, his eyes moving to hers as his hand reached to her cheek and then slid into her hair. "You should decide. These overnights, I… I like them too much and the last one I couldn't help myself. I try to remind myself that I'm your first and I don't want to take anything from you without that being exactly what you want."

"What do I have to decide?" It was hard to really hear his words, her body melting into his touch.

"How much of you can I have." Any sign of nervousness had drained from him and his hand was steadily clutching the back of her neck. "And you have to be sure. So, I'll wait, but try not to tease me so much." His hand pulled her to him, his kiss making it seem as if he hadn't even listened to himself as if he wanted to swallow her whole right there. Hiyori let him have his fill, her hands sliding inside the silky fabric of his haori, his soft breath cascading across her lips as he finally broke from her. "Still happy?"

"Yes." It was uncomfortable, but she pulled him closer in an awkward hug between the seats. "I'll decide soon."

"Take your time. I'm with you no matter what." He eased back, rubbing absently where the center console had pushed into his ribs. "I guess I should say that," he sighed one of his hands coming to the back of his neck as if an ache had moved there, "This isn't my first, uh, anything but… damn it." Yato took two long breathes, pushing them through his teeth.

"I understand." Hiyori didn't want to hear more if he was expecting to add on. He's been with other girls, of course, he was older and he has some kind of past that still didn't feel real to her. It didn't mean she wanted to be reminded.

"No, Hiyori, it's not like that, I'm not saying," he silenced himself again, that hand at his neck flexing. "What I mean is that this is the first time I've actually _felt_ something. It's new to me, too."

"Oh." _It's not a crush_ rushed into her head.

"Just, take your time, Hiyori. Make sure you, that you feel something for me, too." His voice strained as if the last sentence was almost too painful to say.

It hit her then that with all his worry for her he still had fears for himself, that she'd hurt him just as much as he was capable of damaging her. She just couldn't seem to be able to put into words that she would protect him just as fiercely as he would her.


	10. Making Memories

First off, special thanks to Doyoueverthinkaboutit for the encouragement :) it's much appreciated. Second, here we are at the mature content! The first two sections are storyline, but the last is **sexually graphic**, so if you're not into that, skip it. I'll give you the TLDR version in the intro to the next chapter.

* * *

Hiyori had taken two days off completely; school and then straight home, something now so out of character that Sayuri had made sure to check on her and ask if she was alright. She wasn't, but she also wasn't sure that it was something to discuss with her mother. Normally, isn't this what populates girl talk? But she couldn't even bring herself to do that, since how do you explain to Ami and Yama that he used to be a killer but now he's a good guy and I'm considering sleeping with him even though I haven't even finished high school.

But he had _feelings_. Such a diluted word, a word a safe distance from the truth. And, technically, they'd only been dating three months, but wasn't that six month period of them just being in each others' company dating? To be correct, she'd only used the boyfriend terminology for three months, but that meant they were together for nine months and she'd heard a lot of couples move faster than that just through the grapevine at school. Even Kazuma might be further than her since Yato had texted that he had to pick up Yukine because Veena hadn't gone home after all.

Maybe she needed to admit again that this wasn't a crush, that this was… "I love Yato," she mumbled into her comforter. "I love him. I love you, Yato." These practice runs made her heart race and her stomach feel like it was sitting on pins and needles rather than her diaphragm. She needed something, needed to get out of her room which only gave her the opportunity to dwell. She swapped her uniform for jeans and a ratty t-shirt before heading out of the house, nowhere in particular on her mind.

It wasn't much better outside with no one to distract her, and she found herself grazing through stores just trying to pick out objects to think about just to consume space in her mind. She was starting to think she didn't want to be away from him today, even if she was supposed to be figuring out this problem. Just having him there, having his scent enveloping her, seemed to make her mind just function better. But she had to stick to her guns, had to put time and effort into this without those baby blues playing her heart like a fiddle.

"Miss?"

Hiyori felt a soft hand at her elbow and turned, her eyes narrowing into her wallet in a strange hand.

"You dropped this."

It was impossible, it had been in her bag and it wasn't even open but it was. Her bag was open, she was taking her wallet from a strange hand, attached to a body with brunette hair, red eyes, and a saccharine smile just like on the television. "You-" her voice cracked, no more breath in her lungs to create a sound.

"You should be more careful." That cat-like grin spread ear to ear on Fujisaki's face. "And you should be more careful with my Yaboku. He's not even yours, you know? Just barely on loan, due back at any time."

"Leave Yato alone." She hated the whisper to her voice.

"Oh, you can talk? Yaboku has always liked them quiet, I just assumed you were like all the rest." Fujisaki took a step back from her, slipping his hands into his pockets. "You see, Yaboku's just a prodigal son, off wandering until he knows what's good for him. When he realizes you're just not enough to keep what he really is in check he'll come back to us. He always does."

Hiyori swallowed, feeling her throat dry and her heart pounding, but her gut was burning, the anger starting to churn in her. "Then why hasn't he yet?"

"What?" That rare look of surprise graced his features, the smile cracking.

Hiyori finally felt her legs listening to her heart rather than her nerves, taking a step in challenge. "He hasn't been with you in a while, has he? He's been doing just fine on his own and now you're scrambling to-"

"No one here is scrambling but you," Fujisaki ran over her words, his smile straining. "See, and I thought I was doing you a favor, warning you against getting yourself hurt."

"I don't want any of your favors." Hiyori's fist moved before she had really thought through all the steps, thought about all the eyes in the store on her. But she would protect him, and that meant throwing one of those Touno inspired hooks. It was hard to tell who was more surprised at the connection, and both seemed to take a few stumbling steps back after impact.

"Unbelievable," Fujisaki murmured as his fingers caressed the line of his jaw that was throbbing red.

"Stay away from us." Hiyori squared up again but felt her knees already beginning to tremble.

"Oh, no, we'll be seeing each other again, Hiyori Iki." It was impossible but as soon as the words came from his mouth, Fujisaki seemed to blend back into the crowd.

Hiyori moved out into the passersby, trying to fix her sight on him but finding him entirely slipped away. All she could do was examine her knuckles, contemplating what she would tell Yato about any of this.

* * *

Yato had tried to keep himself as busy as possible. He spent most of yesterday and today wandering from job to job, always trying to barter for more work at each step. The downtime only left him with thoughts of Hiyori and the fact that she chose to stay at home. Reading too much into it was his favorite past time and he found himself walking aimlessly on the streets as soon as the jobs had ceased for the night.

"You look lonely." A hand slipped into his and Yato found himself pulling his hand away as if it were aflame.

The sight of her cooled his blood. "Nora." Yato gave himself another step's worth of distance between the two of them.

"Won't you call me by my real name?" She cooed, eliminating the space that Yato had just made, her petite hand reaching out towards him again.

"It'll never be like that again, Nora." He wanted to turn his back to her, just run to put enough distance between them but his legs refused to listen, planted on the concrete.

"I don't think I believe you." Her smile had the innocence of a child, but beneath was a snake waiting to strike. "But I've heard you've made a cute little life for yourself."

"I'm the same as I've always been." Yato spread his arms, offering his palms with a shrug. "Just trying to stay alive, Nora. I'm sure you can appreciate that."

"Oh, so the stories of that boy you're taking care of or a _woman_-"

"You knew about Yukine before I left, Nora." Yato mouth went dry at the thought of word being passed about Hiyori. He must have known his life wasn't a secret, and he'd taken her out, taken her so far as to Ebisu's territory which put both of them out in perfect sight. He was a fool. "And there's always been plenty of women, right?" The playboy smile was a stretch and somehow he felt the pain of even insinuating he was with anyone other than her.

"You've settled down," the words spit from her lips distastefully.

"No such thing as settling, Nora, you know that." Yato's legs finally let him move an inch, another step back as he was able to turn half away from her, his eyes still on her.

"Then come back." Nora moved with him, her body gliding easily next to his, her hand now on his.

"I'm never coming back," Yato hissed. "You and he have to get that through your thick skulls. Find someone else." Without thinking, his hand shot out, shoving her hand back to her, causing a stumbling step backward.

"No need to be rough." Nora's eyes narrowed, her voice losing any playfulness. "And never is a harsh word. You don't know what the future will bring. Especially with that brunette."

"I'm warning you to leave her out of this." Yato felt that old, familiar heat rising in his chest, his eyes and rage narrowing on Nora.

"There you are," Nora's voice rang joyfully. "There's Yaboku."

His jaw tightened, "You wish." Yato turned again, his concentration on moving forward, forcing his legs to get him out of her presence. It was sickening, that old him rearing its head after just minutes of her noxious aura. His blood felt thick with her poison and all he wanted was the fresh air of his new life, not to be suffocated with the past.

* * *

***adult content ahead!***

Hiyori saw Yato before he saw her, standing stiffly against the gate of the school, his arms crossed his chest. Ami and Yama automatically saw him as well, sending Hiyori into a new spiral of anxiety. "Yes, he's here for me." Or at least that's what she could assume, considering their texts over the past couple of days were nothing more than _I-miss-yous_ and updates about the day, as if they had suddenly become long distance. He was waiting for her in more ways than one.

"Are you dating?" Ami was mortified, but Yama gushed at even the mention of romance.

"Well, yeah, for a few months," Hiyori's voice trailed off, hoping the end was lost on them.

"Months?" Yama practically shrieked, making Yato finally look their way.

"Yeah, I have to go! See you later!" Hiyori rushed from the two of them, knowing that this meant her phone would probably be buzzing away the whole evening, but his unannounced presence concerned her much more than her best friends feeling out of the loop. "Are you OK?"

"Uh, yeah. I can't walk you home?" The stiffness in him was still there, but he seemed better at hiding it in her presence.

Hiyori didn't like it, finding it the closest thing to a lie he'd ever told. "You can walk me home, but you shouldn't lie to me."

He sighed, "It's called evading the truth, but you're right. Maybe in private." Yato nodded to Ami and Yama who were still standing, staring, ready to catch up any morsel of the conversation.

Hiyori couldn't help but laugh at the two scheming behind her, helping to relieve part of her current anxiety. She grasped at Yato's elbow, leaning into him. "Take me home."

"What happened to your knuckles?" Hiyori hadn't even thought of the hand she grabbed him with, her only slightly bruised skin still standing out against his.

"Later," Hiyori chimed, sending one final wave to the girls before they slipped out of view.

The worry of sudden appearance started to unwind with each step, allowing her to sink into him, Yato eventually wrapping an arm around her just so she could stay close. The fact that two days had reduced her this seemed outrageous, but Hiyori refused to fight herself. It had become too clear that she had no more power against what she was in: love. And she would tell him today if it killed her.

As soon as they made it to the front of her house, Yato detached from her, staying at the bottom of the steps as she ascending, putting her key in the lock. "You can come in."

"I'm not sure I'm prepared for your mom right now." The nervousness had come back, those thoughts seeming to cloud his face.

"She's not here. My parents are away for the weekend at a conference." Hiyori pushed the door open, taking a step in before turning back to him. "Masaomi, my brother, is supposed to be here watching me, but he has a gallery opening, so he won't be here until he nurses whatever hangover he has tomorrow."

"You're alone."

"Not if you're here." Hiyori watched as her smile struck him, his features softening after the blow and his feet moving towards her. Once he was safely inside she closed the door, locking it behind him. She took his hand and started up the stairs, feeling the moment's hesitation in his step. As she got to the door of her bedroom she stopped. "Just wait here a second. I want to change."

"Yeah," he whispered, turning away from her as if it were happening right there.

Hiyori pressed her hand to her mouth to catch a laugh before slipping into her room, closing the door behind her. She moved to her closet, throwing off her uniform before stopping to stare at herself, the blush already starting on her cheeks. "Don't," she whispered to herself. She grabbed a t-shirt dress and put it on, the soft pink making the color in her cheeks that much brighter. The thoughts were already starting to run through her head as she went back to her door, opening it to that same nervous face but those blue eyes softening at the sight of her.

There was more than enough room in the doorway but he moved as close as possible to her, picking up her injured hand as he walked past. "Tell me what happened."

"After you tell me."

Yato smiled softly, letting her hand drop. "Not fair."

"I technically asked first." Hiyori moved to her bed, sitting and pulling her legs underneath her.

Yato seemed to hesitate, turning the chair at her desk to face her and sitting there instead. "I ran into Nora. She wanted me to go with her." His eyes focused on her face, waiting for a reaction.

"But you didn't." There was an excitement building in Hiyori which she knew she had to quell. He said no once, but it had just been Nora. There was still a chance…

"I didn't, but… I'm worried you're not safe anymore." Yato's hands flexed into fists, digging into his thighs.

"I'm not." Hiyori shrugged, seeing his jaw tighten to the point she was sure she had heard it click. "I met Fujisaki just down the street, at the shops. He tried to tell me to avoid you."

"He _what_?" He catapulted out of the seat as if now was the time to go after Fujisaki, but paused, his hands coming to his hair, a guttural groan of frustration parting his lips. "I'm walking you home from now on and-"

"I punched him," she said curtly with a shrug.

Everything derailed and Yato had to blink three or four times before what she said seemed to process. "What?"

"I told him to leave us alone and I punched him in the face," Hiyori repeated, opening and closing her still stiff hand.

"You punched him that hard?" He was almost on top of her now, forgetting his anxiety and squashing next to her on the bed, taking her injured hand.

"I wasn't going to let him tell me that you were going to give in." She could feel that indignance swelling in her chest, making her almost wish he was here to punch again.

Yato reached out, his hand caressing her cheek. "Hiyori-"

"No, don't _Hiyori_ me." She grasped his hand, bringing it back to her lap. "I appreciate you want to protect me, but I can protect us, too. You can walk me home from school all you want but if I see him again, I'm going to do more than punch him."

"It's not going to be that simple." Yato struggled to free his hand but Hiyori seemed hellbent.

"I know, I'm not…" Hiyori pulled at his hands, searching his eyes. "I'm going to be part of your strength not be your weakness."

She could see him fighting, the sadness and the anger at equal strengths. "If they hurt you…"

"It's still an if, but it's the price I choose to pay if I have to." Hiyori grabbed the back of his neck, refusing to free him from her kiss, feeling his hands hesitantly come to her shoulders.

As soon as her fingers relaxed he created space between them, pushing gently on her shoulders that he still held tightly to. "I wish you'd just think of yourself sometimes."

"I am." She let her other hand come to his cheek, forcing his eyes to hers. "I'd be hurting myself if I chose the other way. I love you too much to let you go now." It felt like euphoria to let those words finally grace her lips. It didn't matter that he was shocked into silence, his hands drifting over her shoulders to pull her tightly against him. Her hands slipped away from his face and circled around his waist, her head resting against his chest, listening to the heartbeat she wanted to memorize.

"Why would you?" His voice trembled, his cheek pressed against her hair, muffling the sound.

"You don't give yourself enough credit." Hiyori turned her head to let her lips touch his neck, feeling him shiver at the touch. "It's easy to love you, Yato." She pushed against him, forcing him back on the bed, watching as the surprise came to his face again. It only intensified as she slid her leg over him, bringing herself to straddle his lap, her hands coming down over his shoulders as her hair cascaded down around his face. She smoothed her hair to one side as she leaned down, her lips delicately pressing against his.

"Hiyori, what are you doing to me?" It was breathless, pleading.

"Hopefully making you fall in love with me." Hiyori expelled a laugh against his lips.

His kiss in reply was firm, one of his hands tangling in her hair. "I've been hopelessly in love with you since the first time you kissed me." She let herself sink to his chest, the relief washing over her as she clung to him and his words. Her kisses were soft, trailing along his neck. "But what did I tell you about the teasing."

His hands tried to come to her shoulders to move her, but Hiyori tightened her hold on him. "You're staying with me tonight, no teasing."

"Hiyori…" Yato sighed before giving up fighting her, running a hand up her side, his fingers trembling against the fabric of her dress. "I told you to think about this."

"Do you really love me, Yato? You're sure?"

Another sigh and his other hand clenched into her thigh right at the hem of her dress, the skin burning under his touch. "Yes."

"That's enough." Hiyori let her kisses crawl up to his jaw, finding him eager to meet her mouth.

And that was enough of an allowance for Yato, that clutched hand burning a trail under her dress, the material gathering as his fingers made their way over the curve of her hip. It felt as if she was trembling as his fingers slid over the cup of her bra, stopping to find a home as he massaged through the thin fabric. A murmur of a groan spilled from her mouth to his. Hiyori pulled away, feeling his hands come with her, his body lifting to sit to follow her. There was a second of hesitation, but as soon as she saw his eyes open, the absolute bliss and calm on his face, she lifted the rest of her dress, throwing it to the side.

Her hands went behind her, unhooking the clasp of her bra as his hands gladly loosened it from her breasts, one hand instantly sliding under the fabric, the rough calluses of his hand instantly setting her nerves alight. The bra soon joined her dress on the floor, Yato taking full advantage of her bare skin, his fingers traveling almost every inch.

"Roll over." It was breathless but still an order, and Hiyori allowed herself to fall to his left, detaching from him to bring herself further up on the bed. Yato stood slowly, removing his shirt as he did.

"Your pants, too." Hiyori resisted the urge to look away, fighting a sudden wave of embarrassment from her own order.

To her surprise, Yato let out a throaty laugh, moving to unbutton his pants. "You're bossier than usual today." He kicked them off, revealing more marred skin.

It was not as intense as his chest and arms, but Hiyori couldn't help that sadness welling up inside her, the wish that he hadn't been so broken. "I know what I want. Come here." His touch was the only thing that could stop the melancholy wave and she wanted to see that pure happiness on his face again.

Yato crawled back onto the bed, his body slipping against her right side as she brought her arm around him, her fingers playing in his hair. "Keep telling me what you want, OK?"

"Yeah." Hiyori took a deep, lengthy breath because it felt like this was the last one she'd get until it was all over.

"I'm going to go slow," he murmured and she wasn't sure it was even for her. True to his word, Yato let his hand drift to her stomach, fingers tracing her skin. As his lips touched hers again, that slow crawl from her stomach began. That coiling feeling started to intensify as his fingers reached her nipple, his coarse thumb rubbing over the tip. His tongue parted her lips just in time for his thumb and index fingers to pinch the flesh enough to produce a cry. He released the pressure and brought his lips from hers. "Too much?"

It was a feeling so new that she couldn't categorize it, a strange kind of pain shot down deep below her stomach, wrapping another turn in that coil. "Try it again." He pressed his smile into her neck, nuzzling the soft skin as he slid his hand to her other breast, repeating the motion to harden her other nipple. "It's alright," she murmured, trying to isolate that sensation.

"Just alright?" The amusement saturated his voice as he sunk kisses down her collarbone.

"I meant-" but the sentence fell off as her breath hitched, his tongue running a line down her breast to replace his fingers with his mouth. The suction was soft but enough to elicit another groan as his tongue flicked at the peak.

"Better, huh?" The smug smile on his face would be insufferable in any other situation, the pride that was beaming from ear to ear.

"Now you're teasing." With one hand sunken into his hair, Hiyori tried to use her other to reach for him but found her wrist grabbed, pinned back.

Yato brought his face back to hers, nipping at her lip. "You first. Then maybe we'll think about me."

"That's not fair." The hand had let go of her wrist and gone back to her breast, teasing at the moistened nipple, leaving her almost unable to argue.

"It's called taking turns, totally fair." Yato chuckled across her lips before he captured her mouth again. His hand brushed over her breast again before sliding down her stomach to the waistband of her panties, fingers still remaining over the material as he swept them between her legs, causing her to bring her hips up without even really thinking, pushing herself towards the sensation. "Can I…?"

"Yes." Hiyori found herself closing her eyes, unable to process that look on his face and the touch at the same time.

He pulled his fingers back from between her legs, still applying that same pressure that made her legs tremble. This time as his hand returned to the band he slipped under the fabric, keeping his fingers light as they just caressed the shape of her, one digit slick against her crease. His lips moved back to her neck, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin as he let his two fingers enter her. Hiyori's hips thrust forward bringing him deeper, a gasp that melted into a moan drawn from her throat. As his fingers stroked forward, Yato's thumb rolled over her clit, sending a wave through her, a pressure starting to build.

It felt like a steady pattern of the three and Hiyori felt that coil tightening with each wave of pleasure. She could barely kiss him, her breath ragged, interrupted by little gasps or moans as she felt herself coming close to an edge, each stroke another step closer. This time as he pulled his fingers out of her they came to her clit instead, creating a steady, firmer pressure. His mouth left hers, traveling back down to her breast, sucking the tip back into his mouth. Her inhale was sharp, feeling one foot over that cliff.

It was impossible to stop the completely alien sound from scraping against her throat as her body that coil finally seemed to explode, a chain reaction trailing up her body as if every muscle were suddenly alive. It was then that her breath finally seemed to come back to her, everything in her body feeling tingly with the oxygen. His mouth and fingers finally detached, sending one last aching wave through her.

Yato's eyes met hers, his smirk softening just slightly. "That sound was perfect, but be careful when we do this at the apartment."

A laugh easily bubbled from her throat, her hand caressing through his hair. "I don't think I could have controlled that if I wanted to."

"Good," there was that pride again, the personal congratulations on a job well done. "We'll just have to practice being quiet." Hiyori finally came back to herself enough to roll towards him, bringing her mouth to his in an attempt to wipe that silly smirk off his face. She pressed her palm against his stomach, feeling the muscles contract under her.

"Hiyori," it sounded like a hazy objection against her lips. Her fingers drifted down, a little snap at the band of his boxer briefs before she brought her palm down again, traveling the length of him through the fabric. "Fuck." It was a guttural whisper, followed by air pressing through teeth. "What are you going to do?"

"Tell me what you want." A part of her had already decided, but it still hinged on him.

"I got what I wanted," he stalled.

Hiyori slid her hand back up, gripping with her fingers, eliciting another groan from him. "I told you not to lie."

"Again, it's evading, not lying." Yato couldn't help himself, his hips pressing forward against her hand. "It feels like what I want is too much."

"It's not." Her hand came back to where skin met cloth and she pushed at the band, starting to bring it to his hips.

His hand came to hers, holding it in place, "It's your first-"

"I made my decision. You make yours." Hiyori let go of his hand, rolling onto her back. She brought her hands to her hips, slipping off her panties, folding her legs to get them completely off.

Yato's eyes roamed down her body for a moment, his cool guy act dissolving. "I didn't… bring anything. I wasn't exactly expecting…"

"I did." Hiyori cracked a smile at the way his eyes widened momentarily. "You told me to think about it and I did. And, I mean, I've been on birth control for years but to be safe…" She turned herself to the bedside, opening the drawer there and running her hand towards the back. Just in case she had hidden it there for safe-keeping, out of the immediate view if someone else had planned to open the drawer. As her fingers clenched around the package, she felt him move on the bed. She turned quickly, afraid for a moment he was getting up, giving in to whatever anxiety was eating at him, but instead he was simply taking off the rest of his clothes.

Yato bit his lip as he took the box from her as she offered it, trying to open it with a slow breath. He took out the wrapped condom, handing the box back to Hiyori and watching as she hid it back in the drawer. As she turned back again he was unwrapping the latex, pulling it down his shaft. He finished, turned to her and put a strong arm around her waist, pulling her to him."I'm going to go as slow as I can, Hiyori."

"I trust you." Hiyori enjoyed the weight as he shifted on top of her, his kisses light against her lips, his hands moving up her side to squeeze at her breast again as if they were starting from the top. That hand was a little needier and she happily began to wonder if he was actually giving into himself, into what he wanted. She could only hope.

As promised, he was slow to move from his lingering kisses, his traveling hands. Hiyori even started to feel that wave washing over her again, her own body awakening again to his touch. Yato finally sat up, moving to spread her legs and position himself between them, his hands gripping at the back of her thighs as he paused to look over her. A flare of self-consciousness blossomed in Hiyori, seeing his eyes taking her apart, memorizing her body. His hands released and moved to steady himself, his body now leaning over hers, his face hovering an inch from hers. "You're beautiful."

She could only think to bring her hands to his face, bringing his lips to hers. Yato brought his hips forward, his hand coming down to guide his tip into her. His motion was achingly slow and while she was slick from the first part of the evening she felt the tightness and the pressure, an uncomfortable catch of breath erupting from her mouth. She could feel him hesitate and almost pull back so she locked her legs around him, forcing him. "I'm OK," she murmured against his lips.

With her encouragement he buried himself in her, a rough sigh breaking across their parted lips. As promised he brought himself back slowly, choosing a rhythm like a calm wave. Each stroke seemed to push deeper, his hands digging into the bed next to her. He caught her lips for one kiss before pressing into her, one of his hands finally moving from the bed to her breast. The original tightness had given away to a building kind of friction, something starting to border the coiling sensation and as his fingers played over her nipple she finally let a moan tumble from her lips.

Yato couldn't help but smile at another new sound from her. "Still OK?"

"It feels good."

"Tell me if that changes." He was almost breathless but when she opened her eyes she found him already staring at her, as if waiting for her permission. Hiyori nodded, her legs flexing around him, causing a grind that brought another contented sigh from her lips. He let her hold him for a moment before allowing himself to fall into a stroke that started to match his needs. Letting himself completely go seemed to be impossible, but Yato let his body start to dictate speed.

Hiyori watched as thought seemed to peel away from him, a different kind of concentration on his face. Breath seemed to rush from him as he drove into her, caution about her suddenly thrown to the wind. It was the raspy groan that seemed to finally awaken him, his hips thrusting slower and out of time. Yato rested on top of her, not detaching himself but searching from her lips, leaving no space between them as he explored her mouth as if he had never kissed her before. It took time for him to stop, his face only far enough from hers that she could see his eyes, that shocking blue just staring at her.

"What is it?" Hiyori ran her fingers slowly through his hair, her other hand trailing down his side.

"I'm just trying to memorize all of this," his voice was strained, those tendrils of emotion trying to force themselves through.

Hiyori brought her hand from his hair to his cheek, smiling as he tilted into her touch. "We'll have more memories than just this."


	11. Time Bomb

Getting out of the bed was almost painful, Yato's heart aching just from the lack of touch. Still, he didn't have to fake the smile that pulled on his lips, a permanent well of happiness starting to leak from his heart. It was bittersweet as he got dressed, glancing at her and finding her watching him, making him self-conscious because of her seeming lack of it. Has anyone ever looked like that at him before? "What's gotten into you?"

"Hm?" She seemed to break from a spell at his words.

"You're staring." Yato moved to her side of the bed, leaning in to kiss her. She was still naked draped in a sheet and his whole body called for her again, but staying felt too dangerous.

"Oh, sorry!" Her cheeks flared with color as if she finally realized herself.

"Don't be." He forced himself not to kiss her again, standing straight and jamming his hands into his pockets. "You hungry?"

It looked like she had to think about it before nodding.

"I'll go grab some take-out."

"I'll come with you." Hiyori rose from the bed, the sheet falling off her and Yato found his eyes lingering over her again.

Yato cleared his throat, trying to bring his eyes to look at anything else in the room. "No, you relax. I'll only be gone for a little bit." He turned for the door but felt her press up against him, his arms circling his waist.

"Be careful."

"My middle name, remember?" Yato laced his fingers in hers for a moment before she relinquished her hold, letting him step forward through the door. "But lock the door after I leave."

"OK." Her voice sounded distracted, making Yato look back over his shoulder. She was just dressing again instead of thinking too hard about his instructions, an anxiety purely of his own creation.

He moved through the hallway and down the stairs, unlocking the door and stepping out on the stoop. He paused, turning back to the door as if he were going to lock it himself, giving that illusion to satiate his paranoia. _She's safe. She's fine. She'll lock the door _became a mantra as he walked down the street, his phone tightly gripped in his hand, waiting for any call or text.

As he finally hit the first row of stores, the realization hit him that he hadn't even asked what she wanted or even thought about food in general. His main thoughts were still of her, the way her body felt underneath his, the taste of her skin, and now these thoughts were flooding back to him at not exactly the best time. Yato let out a short laugh, shaking his head at the school-boy-in-love trope that he was falling into. When did he really get so normal?

He looked down the rows, examining the names and his memories for anything she'd like. He'd heard her talk once or twice about that noodle spot, but hadn't she also wanted chicken that one time and dismayed over the fact it was closed? Yato was never actually good at making decisions and all he really wanted to do right now was please her, leaving him with a growing panic that was in so many ways laughable. So he did, he laughed, and subsequently decided a little from both would do. He placed his order in the noodle shop first, knowing they would take more time, and then popped into the chicken joint which almost instantaneously had his order.

With one bag in hand, he walked back to the first shop, sitting in one of the rickety chairs to wait for his name. He lit up the screen on his phone, seeing no notifications, despite the nagging worry in the back of his head. _She's safe. She's fine. She locked the door._ He opened the SMS, clicking on Kazuma's name. _"Talk to you tomorrow?"_

He waited, staring at the text, but Kazuma never really left anyone hanging on. _"Problem? I can be home by 6."_

"_6\. Better explained 1-on-1."_ Yato heard his name, pocketed his phone and moved to the counter, paying the tab before grabbing the bag and heading back out into the street. He made it halfway to her house before the hairs started to tingle at the base of his neck, that old instinct rearing its head. He moved both bags to his left hand, freeing his right for whatever was necessary and turned, his eyes meeting those red orbs.

"Yaboku," Fujisaki cooed.

"I'm busy." Yato swallowed hard as his free hand clenched into a fist.

"That _girl_ can wait. Hiyori, right?" He spat her name like dirt from his teeth. "She's been very disrespectful and I'm starting to feel like she's a bad influence on you."

"Any business you have is with me. Leave her out of it." Those crescent moons were forming in the skin of his palms.

Fujisaki laughed heartily, a hand smoothing through his hair as if to bring himself together. "You know we just can't do that, especially since she's causing so much trouble."

"You're causing trouble with her." He felt his voice raise like a petulant child, seeming to amuse Fujisaki even more. "And it's me you want anyway."

"That's right, it is you." Fujisaki's grin was sickening. "And, look, I know how much you enjoy these little breaks, and I'm so willing to let you have your time to grow, but listen. The next time we ask, Nora or I, you're going to have to come."

"I'm not interested." What he wanted as a growl came out as a weak whisper, his throat closing at the idea of a time limit.

"Look, you're forcing my hand, Yaboku. I hate to do this, really, but it's that or we'll just have a repeat of Sakura on our hands, and I know that's not what you want." Fujisaki took a step back, his body starting to be obscured in the shadows leaking from the alleyway.

Those snapshots from his childhood overwhelmed his mind. "You wouldn't."

"You most certainly know I would." It was nothing more than a voice from the darkness now. "So, be a good boy, finish your business here because the next time we ask the answer has to be yes."

"Fuck." Yato unclenched his fist, using the hand to try to wipe some of the terror from his face. He was a ticking bomb and they would all be collateral damage. Getting his feet to continue was a feat of strength and by the time he made it back to Hiyori's the exhaustion was almost too much to bear. His finger pressed into the bell, not trying the door because she had to have locked it and he honestly didn't want to find out if she hadn't.

"Oh, she ordered food."

Yato clenched that free hand again but when he turned found a face he didn't recognize. "I'm sorry?"

"I got it, man." It was a bespectacled man who was a little older than him, walking up to the stoop while pocketing his keys to grab his wallet instead.

Yato looked from the bags to the man and blinked. "I'm not-"

The door creaked to display Hiyori in her robe, her hair freshly wet from the shower she must have taken to waste the time. Her smile was just for him but faltered as soon as she noticed the second man. "Masaomi?" her voice raised a few octaves, clutching her robe closed a little more. "What happened to the opening?"

"Felt bad and decided to do the brotherly thing." His eyes narrowed at Yato, his wallet flipping closed in his hands.

"Or mom found out?" Hiyori offered.

"Why not all of the above?" Masaomi shrugged. He glanced at Yato again and then back to her, his mind obviously formulating a story.

"I'm Yato," he blurted, offering his free hand for a shake.

"The boyfriend," Masaomi added, taking his hand a little too firmly.

"Yes!" Hiyori tried to break up the staring and the hands but neither budged, the boys locked in a contest on the front steps.

"Hiyori, go get dressed. I'll see Yato in." Masaomi relinquished his grip first so that he could turn to his sister, pushing her towards the stairs.

Yato followed the two, closing and locking the door behind him. He wondered how much more exhausting this night could get and from the look of Masaomi, it was just starting. "Glad you're here, there's too much food as it is." Yato tried the happy-go-lucky smile but found Masaomi about as susceptible to it as his mother.

"Planned a date for tonight?" Masaomi started walking towards the kitchen, just throwing the question over his shoulder.

Yato followed, "It was just a surprise. She said she was cramming tonight, so I thought I'd treat her." They both entered the kitchen, Yato placing the bags on the counter.

"Why don't you put those on the table?" Masaomi was already placing out utensils on the counter, turning to the fridge. "You drink beer?"

Yato thought maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all but checked himself. It was either fun or a test. "I'm good for now." He picked the bags back up, moving to the entryway to the room off the kitchen, placing the bags on the chabudai. He knelt next to the table, leaning against it and starting to take out and arrange the various dishes.

Masaomi appeared, dishes piled with utensils in one hand and two beers balanced in the other. He still set one down in front of Yato and he was not sure if it was just hospitality or some kind of continuous trial. Hiyori finally made her way into the room, her hair tied loosely in a braid and that t-shirt dress she had worn just a few hours ago. He could still feel the fabric between his fingers and a blush blossomed on his cheeks.

Hiyori met his eyes, a coy smile spreading across her lips that diminished as her brother cleared his throat. She placed the pickled vegetables on the table to complete the meal, and sat at the side of her table between Masaomi and Yato, watching as they seemed to stare at each other across it. Yato broke his gaze from Masaomi, still feeling his eyes there and moved towards distributing the plates.

It was a quiet start to eating since shoving food in your face is not always conducive to conversation, but Yato found himself wondering how to force a start. Sayuri had eventually warmed to him, so why couldn't Masaomi? Or maybe even her dad? _But what's the point? You're gone the next time they come for you. Why are you trying to become permanent?_ His stomach lurched and he put down his food.

Masaomi took this as a sign to start, letting his bowl sit back on the table. "So, Yato, what do you do?"

"Not anything permanent at the moment, just a bunch of odd jobs." It felt like that future question from Sayuri, that nervousness about what he was starting to eat at him.

"But you're in college?"

"No," he almost laughed at the idea but thought it better not to in the present company.

Masaomi had nothing more to offer than a _hmph_ before taking his bowl back into his hands, examining the food there before clearing his throat. "Mom seems to like you, though. Then again, she likes Kazuma, too."

"It's not a contest," Hiyori snapped, the back of her hand covering her mouth since she had to get the words out regardless of the food she was chewing.

"So when are you going to tell Dad?" Masaomi raised his eyebrows, watching as his sister almost choked at the remnants in her mouth.

Yato couldn't stop himself from looking at her. He wished they were alone for her to answer that since didn't being in love with him mean some kind of permanency? So her father would have to know, but again that ache struck in him that no matter what the answer he had one foot in the grave he'd made for himself.

But all those clouds in his mind cleared as she seemed to meet his gaze without hesitation, her hand clearing from her mouth to show a smile ear to ear. "I was going to tell him once he was back from the conference. I'm sorry I didn't say anything before, but I…" Her hand slid across the table, resting on top of his. "Will you come to dinner here next weekend? I promise everyone will be on their best behavior."

Masaomi snorted a laugh but it barely registered for Yato, his mind too involved in trying to decipher what was happening to his heart. It was breaking, crumbling at the idea that he had everything he wanted but felt so far from it. It was racing, the nervousness of that growing idea that he had to protect her. It was overflowing, screaming to kiss her again with everything he had. It was too much and he was sure for a moment that he was going to cry regardless of the surroundings.

Yato tried to swallow all of it down. "Yes."

"You're going to need that beer," Masaomi laughed again before opening the tab on his own.

"No, it'll be fine." Yato meant those words. Between the smile on her face and the build-up inside of him he was sure suddenly that this had to be it. He tried to hold on to that feeling, trying to get it to envelop that knowledge of his timer. Maybe he couldn't let his father take this from him. Maybe this was the line in the sand.

* * *

All he wanted was her touch again, the feeling of her warm body against his, but he had made a date with Kazuma. Yato still found himself hovering in the doorway, watching as she bent over a textbook with Yukine, that spurring strictness saturating her instructions. _She'd make a good teacher._ A slow smile spread across his lips. _She'd make an even better mom._ That last thought hit him like a truck and he found himself finally turning away from the two of them to hide the blush on his cheeks.

The front door clicked and Kazuma shuffled into the room, nodding at Yato. "Ready?"

"Relax first." Yato shrugged, trying to buy time to collect his thoughts.

Kazuma started to walk towards his room, his bag hanging off his shoulder. "This sounds like business so I'd rather not."

"Your call." Yato followed him, closing the door as soon as he was in Kazuma's room. There was barely any signs of life there, his room just as straight and neat as his personality. Yato noticed, with drifting interest, that he'd added a picture of Veena to his desk, one of the snapshots from Capypa Land.

"Just you and me?" Kazuma eyed him first with humor. "Are you asking for Hiyori's hand?"

"Cut it out." Yato tried to sound serious but the crack in his voice brought a smile to Kazuma's face. He sighed, the humor not doing anything for him. "It's about my dad."

Ice came over Kazuma's features, the smile disappearing from his lips. "What is it?"

"He's here. He knows about Hiyori. He… he threatened her." Yato couldn't look him in the eye, that overwhelming feeling that he was already letting everyone down.

"And he wants you to come back?" Kazuma's analytical, emotionless state had turned on, easing Yato back into reality rather than his downward spiral.

"He said if I say no next time he'll… hurt her." _Like Sakura_ but there wasn't the time or the strength to tell that story. "It's not a ploy. He'll do something worse than death."

"I assume this is something you've seen done."

"Yes." His throat felt tight and he had to clear it to get to the point where he could breathe again.

"I thought we agreed at the beginning that you weren't a part of that anymore." There it was, the slip in that comfortable facade that Kazuma wore so well, the frustration in his voice beating at Yato's ears.

"I told you _I_ was done but Dad was another story." Yato's tone was too sharp, hearing the mumbling of the other two ceasing in the other room. These walls weren't made for secrets, so Yato brought his voice down. "I won't let them hurt her."

"But you will," Kazuma's words came back like a knife. "You can't be ignorant about her feelings so much that you'd imagine her fine with you… what? Up and leaving? If you go back, what does that even mean?"

"I'll disappear for a while." His explanation was as weak as his voice. "It depends on how short of a leash my old man will want me on after this latest vacation."

Kazuma expelled a breath through his teeth. "And when you disappear what happens to her?"

Yato ran a fist against his thigh. "She'll be safe."

"And when you come back?" Kazuma sat exasperatedly in the chair, his hands clenching into his knees. "She'll wait for you, you know, but at what price, Yato?"

"She won't wait." His knuckles dug deeper into his thigh, the pain steadying him against the horrible thought.

"You're an idiot if you think that."

"She'll _hate_ me," Yato insisted, the final last bit of fear creeping up from his heart.

"No, I'll hate you, Yukine maybe, but she'll hold on." Kazuma sighed, a hand coming to his brow. "But I'm hoping this isn't the point of this conversation, to argue about whether or not Hiyori's in love with you."

"I need information." Yato sunk his hands into his pockets, eyes focused on the floor. "I don't think I have the time to get it myself, so I need your help."

"What information?" Kazuma's interest was piqued again, his anger receding.

"I know Nora and Fujisaki are here. I need to know where my father really is."

"What are you thinking of doing?"

"The less you know the better." Yato tried to smile but hated the way it felt on his face. He wasn't sure he could do any of this, one road or the other, but he was at least going to try to gather all the pieces he needed. "Can you do it?"

"I guess I'm going back to work," Kazuma shrugged.

"Sorry for the late-night." Yato held a hand out to him, pulling Kazuma from his seat. "I promise again I'm going to try to fix this."

"Those promises are for Hiyori, not me." His face was blank again, the emotion there only expelled through his sigh. "I really thought we'd never have this discussion."

"You were wrong, Kazuma. It happens to the best of us." Yato turned from him, opening the door. Both Yukine and Hiyori were already on the couch, a better place to try to catch whispers. He couldn't stop a laugh at the two trying to look busy.

Kazuma squeezed past Yato and hurried towards the door. "I'm going back to work." He paused, looking back at the two on the couch. "Come on, Yukine. I'll show you around the office."

"Really?" Yukine looked between Yato and Kazuma, almost sure he was somehow being tricked.

"Go ahead," Yato waved him off.

Yukine didn't have the time for a smart ass comment in reply, instead jumping over the back of the couch to catch up with Kazuma, getting to the door and slipping on his shoes at lightning speed. Kazuma sent one look, something that would have stung if Yato wasn't already saturated in enough self-hate from their conversation, back at Yato before pushing Yukine out the door. Yato watched as the door clicked closed, not sure if he had the nerve to look at her yet.

"You were fighting." Hiyori stood up from the couch and moved to him, her hands coming to his sides.

"Ah," Yato elongated the vowel, watching as her face turned sour. "Sort of?"

"What does that mean?" Her hands clutched into the fabric of his shirt.

"Listen." The urge to run, to evade, was rising in him, but as he forced himself to look in her eyes, to slip a soft hand against her cheek, he found himself unable to give her a falsehood. "Fujisaki stopped me last night when I was out getting the food."

"And?" That grip on him was tightening as if she could stop him.

His hand traveled into her hair and he had to resist the urge to pull her in, to kiss her to forget. "He made sure to make it clear you were the target if I didn't do what I was told."

"Forget it." Her voice wasn't anything close to pleading, instead, that strict tone tinged with anger was still there.

"If he comes for me again-"

"Forget it!" He couldn't tell if it was her voice or her grip that shook him. "You won't go back. We all need you here and you can't just ruin everything you worked for like that!" He sighed, his other hand coming softly to lay on her throat, bringing her chin towards him, surprised that she even gave into his kiss. She let him only for a moment before pinching at his sides. "Yato!"

"No chance you'll leave it at that, huh?" Yato let his forehead rest on hers.

"Don't be stupid," she grumbled.

"Hiyori, I'm trying everything, I swear, but this is beyond just Fujisaki returning that punch he owes you. What he can do to you is worse than killing you and I can't let that be a possibility." Yato sighed as she wouldn't allow herself to be pulled back into another kiss.

"So what are you going to do?" Hiyori detached her hands from his side, using them to push herself away from him.

"Whatever I have to in order to keep you safe." Yato let her have her distance, forcing himself just to watch as she ran her fingers through her hair, her other arm wrapping around her stomach as if to hold herself.

"Which means you could leave." Her lips pinched tightly, her eyes starting to shimmer in the low light of the room.

"I can't make a promise about that." He couldn't keep himself still as the tears streaked down her cheek, his hands instantly coming back to her face to clear any that fell. "I can promise you that I love you and that I will always try to come back to you."

"Try," she croaked out desperately.

The words hesitated in his throat but as her fingers found their way to his chest, the heat seeping into his skin, he couldn't stop himself. "I'm going to try to end it this time."

Hiyori couldn't do anything but stare, the words taking too long to process in her mind. "You're going to get yourself killed."

Yato whispered, "I have you to come back to so maybe I can't lose."

"If you die-"

"Hey." His strong arm came to her waist, the other to her shoulders, pulling her as tightly as possible to him. "Don't buy trouble." It felt like a jinx and the more he mentioned it the more it seemed like he was signing a will, closing all his accounts. "It's better to think about the time we have now, OK?"

"You say that like it's easy," she murmured into his chest, the remnants of the tears still giving an edge to her voice.

"It's not. It's not for me either but you promised me memories, Hiyori, so that's all we can do for now." He started to rub his hand along her back. "Let's go out. I'll take you anywhere you want to go." Yato relaxed his hold on her, allowing space between their bodies so he could see her eyes, trying to decipher what she was thinking.

"No." Hiyori's hands moved down his chest, fixing to the zipper of his jacket and pulling it to the end. "We're staying in." She started to push the jacket off his shoulders and Yato found himself relaxing his arms to help her, letting go of her just to shrug it off.

"Hiyori…" His mind raced with all the reasons why they shouldn't. She was obviously upset, an unhealthy mix of sorrow and anger and who knows what else. He was going to leave her and get himself into an idiotic amount of danger. But as she brought her lips to his it all melted away. There was no argument.

* * *

Hiyori awoke in the middle of the night, her hand stretching out reflexively to his side of the bed, finding it empty with not even a hint of his warmth on the sheets. Her nerves felt instantly awake and she shot to sitting up, her new position allowing her to see him sitting on the window sill, his eyes lingering out into the dark. "Yato?"

"It's OK. Just couldn't sleep." Yato took one more scan of the outside world before bringing his eyes to hers but not moving from his spot.

"What's wrong?" Hiyori rested her back against the headboard, pulling the sheet to her chest. She was starting to get used to her own nakedness but still couldn't bring herself to display it so easily.

"Same old." Yato shrugged. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm pretty good at brooding about what I have rather than enjoying it."

"Never would have guessed," Hiyori gave a short laugh to punctuate. His eyes trailed back to the window to allow a silence to settle between the two of them, thoughts running across his face in the moonlight. _He's always arguing with himself_. She sighed, letting her body sink back into the bed, her hair cascading across the pillow. "It's Sunday, right?"

"Early morning, yeah," he replied absently.

"They come home today. I'm going to tell them."

He could only clear his throat, his eyes still intent on something outside.

"I meant it, Yato. I wasn't putting on a show for Masaomi. I'm going to tell them today." She heard the window sill creak as he stood from it but didn't leave the spot.

"I know you mean it. I know you love me." His face was still struggling against something as if those words were an obstacle. "But I can't stop wondering why you bother. What if I-"

"You told me not to do that so you can't either," her voice boomed against the quiet of the room. She swallowed, trying to check her volume for the sake of the Yukine and Kazuma. "I bother because the more I can do to make you permanent the less I hope you feel like I'll forget you. I couldn't forget you since the moment I met you, but that never seems to get through your thick skull."

A bitter laugh shot from his mouth as his hand came to his face, shielding his eyes from her.

"Come over here if you're going to cry." His feet shifted weight but didn't move. "Yato." Her voice was scolding, finally spurring him to move towards her. His eyes were glossy when he moved his hand away to steady himself as he crawled onto the bed, collapsing on top of her.

"I want to just keep what I have." His voice was hoarse and shaky against her neck, his face hiding there to keep the tears out of her view.

"And it will be here when you come back." Hiyori had to swallow to choke back her own rush of tears. _You promised him strength, and that's what you'll give him. _There wouldn't be any tears from her. She ran her fingers through his hair, her other hand rubbing along his back. "I'll be here when you come back." But when didn't seem like the right word, and Hiyori could feel _if_ scratching at the back of her throat.


	12. Reality

Sorry it took so long!

* * *

Yato wouldn't even let her get into the apartment, his body already blocking the way as soon as she had the door half-open. He had ditched the tracksuit again, at Yukine's insistence, and wore a light blue sweater with a darker khaki pair of pants. He'd never understand any of the combinations that Yukine insisted upon, but he had to admit the smile that spread across her lips when Hiyori saw him like this made listening to him worthwhile. He'd even let Yukine pick out a jacket for him, a navy blue peacoat that while he believed it was a little too frou-frou for him, was exceptionally warm and comfortable.

"When did you get _that_?" She plucked at the sleeve of the coat, forcing him to turn around.

"Yesterday, while you were with Masaomi." Yato forced an arm around her to stop the display and started to pull her down the hallway. "I swear, now that we have two cents to our name Yukine can only think about shopping."

"He's almost a teenager," Hiyori nudged him. "It's important to look a certain way."

"Yeah, yeah." Yato waited for the ding of the elevator and the doors to slide open before he pulled her in, engulfing her in his arms inside the relative privacy of the elevator. "I got you and all I had was a tracksuit."

"Yato," she started to complain but his mouth clamped over hers, stealing a hard kiss. "What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing." He stole one more before releasing her. "How did it go, you know, with Masaomi?"

Hiyori's face was flat, absent of anything and it made his skin crawl. "And my dad, and my mom."

Yato grappled with the urge to grab her again as if she were about to get away. "What? What happened?"

"Yato, they…" Her face turned away from him as the door opened and she moved out in front of him, making him trail behind her in a panic. By the time she'd led him through the glass doors and into the almost winter chill, Yato had to grab her to keep her in place.

That emptiness had been replaced with a brilliant smile, a laugh tumbling from her lips, sending his brain into a permanent state of confusion. "What are you laughing about?"

"Your face, Yato!" Hiyori broke out into another giggle. "I can't believe you fell for that."

"You're terrible!" Yato hissed at her, trying to pull her to him but not having any luck.

To his surprise, she finally stopped fighting, letting herself press up against him before smothering another laugh with his lips. "It was OK. Dad's happy there's no more talk of marriage since he wanted me to focus on my studies anyway. Mom is… well, she's Mom and she's a little upset she'll have to deal with Kazuma's mother, but… deep down they want me happy, I think." She smoothed her hands over the collar of his jacket. "But that means dinner is definitely on this weekend."

"I'll be there." Yato winked and pushed past her, feeling her hand tuck into his arm as he pushed forward down the street. "But your dad might be disappointed. I was going to ask for your hand during dinner."

"Yato," she groaned, her eyes rolling.

He feigned shock, his hand falling on hers, "You'd refuse me?"

"Yes," she laughed. "Especially since you're full of it."

Yato blinked innocently, "Love for you, yes."

Her sigh tried to sound exasperated, but the blush spreading across her cheeks ruined any illusion of annoyance. "I'm glad you're feeling more like yourself."

"Yeah." That smile was feeding him, keeping that part of him strong in the face of the thoughts that were still trying to haunt him. Both had made separate, silent promises to be strong, and this week had brought them back to some sense of normalcy. "The sex really helps, too."

The more he laughed the more she pinched, her voice now tipping into agitated, "Yato!"

"I refuse to apologize for that." Yato clutched her hand in his, stopping those searching fingers. "It's one of the best parts of my day."

"One of," she huffed.

He examined the chilled fingers in his, bringing his other hand to warm them. "My favorite's waking up next to you." His heart melted as she blushed a deep red and tried to hide her cheeks against her navy of his sleeve, just making the color pop brighter. Hiyori kept herself glued there, recovering as they walked the rest of the way to the cafe. It wasn't long before he was slipping into a booth, watching the color of her cheeks return to normal as she ordered her tea.

Yato waited for their drinks to arrive before taking a deep breath. A clammy hand gripped the back of his neck, "Hiyori, I, uh, before the dinner with your parents I wanted to ask you something."

"Don't start with the marriage jokes again." She pressed her lips together in an attempt to look peeved, but her smile still threatened to burst through.

"No, it's not about that," he allowed a nervous laugh to escape his lips. "That money your dad gave me…"

The smile stopped spreading across her face, her lips now easily pressing together tightly for a moment. "What about it?"

"I want him to take it back," Yato let the words out in a rush of air.

"Oh," Hiyori's eyebrows narrowed. "I don't know, Yato. I could, I guess, ask? He didn't bring it up, really." Her eyes turned to her tea as she swirled it once, twice. "You never told me what you did with it."

Yato slid a hand across the table, palm up, waiting for her to take it before he answered. "Gave it to Kofuku. I told her it was fine to use it for the shop, but I think we both ended up agreeing to hold onto it for Yukine, in case he wanted to go to college or something like that."

Her fingers tightened on his. "What about you?"

"Me?" Yato shrugged, that other hand still pulling at his neck. "I never wanted that cash, just you."

"I know, but I meant…" Hiyori used her sigh to cool her tea. "What about university for you?"

Even though this was usually the place for his laugh track, the idea that he would have some kind of future like that, Yato found himself stumbling over the question. He cleared his throat, "Again, me? I never really went to school in the first place. Dad just… well, I guess it was homeschooling, but that's a loose term."

"But I've watched you do math with Yukine. You can do more than me, I'm pretty sure." His concern about the question didn't seem to bother her, her smile drifting back to her face.

"OK, math, money, that I can do." He hated even admitting it, to open a door and look at a future for himself that wasn't the one he'd seen for years. "But no transcripts, no entrance exams. It's pretty hopeless."

"You've said before that you could fake them for Yukine," Hiyori reminded.

Yato allowed himself to laugh, feeling as if he was fighting a losing battle with her, each excuse shot into the wind. "I'm starting to think you just want to see me in a suit."

"Maybe," she smirked. "Or maybe you'd just make a better stay-at-home dad between odd jobs."

He didn't like that smile on her face, the way it made his heart ache, the way that it, paired with those words, made that future seem even more real. "Slow down, will you? You won't even let me marry you and now you're mentioning a kid."

Hiyori's smile was glowing, making his heart race. "Just trying to figure out what would make you happy. Isn't that what my mom said?"

"Sort of." He could feel his face grow hot and he turned his attention across the restaurant, trying to calm all the new thoughts in his mind. He couldn't and he could feel his Adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallowed hard. "But that's… what you want, right?"

"Of course I want you to be happy," she laughed.

He took a slow breath as a wave of weakness came over him as he turned his head so their eyes met again. "No, I mean marriage and kids."

"Oh." She kept his eyes for only a moment before resting her chin on her hand, her attention drifting to their intertwined fingers. "I know I made fun, but eventually…" Hiyori stopped to take a breath, giving her the strength to look back into his eyes. "Is it eventually for you?"

"You're the only person who's ever made me consider it." Yato tried to keep any other thoughts from his mind. "But I bet you want to finish school first. And you're graduating in a few months…"

Hiyori took another deep breath before biting her lip, forcing herself to pause before the next words. "I am, and I thought I would take some time off first, maybe work a year."

His eyes narrowed, "I thought you were going to follow in your dad's footsteps."

"I…" She laughed before taking her hand from his, using it to cover her face for a moment. "That's just it. They're footsteps. I think I was just following them because they were easy." She moved to run both hands through her hair, sighing. "I must sound crazy. This time last year everything was planned for me-"

"But I showed up." Yato leaned back in the chair and brought his hands back to his lap. It was hard to keep a frown from his face and he felt his jaw tightening without really thinking about it.

"Don't you dare," Hiyori's frown matched his own. "If you get gloomy-"

His arms crossed his chest. "How do I not get gloomy when I'm the one messing up all your plans?"

"Listening is not one of your strong suits," Hiyori sighed and took a moment to sip from her tea. "Plans that were planned _for _me. Dad was sure I'd be a doctor and Mom was sure I'd be married to Kazuma. Two things I never had a say or thought about until you gave me a reason to." She put her hand back in the middle of the table, huffing as he didn't move to take it. "Do you think I should marry Kazuma?"

"No," he groaned but still refused to uncross his arms.

She flipped her hand back over, her palm down, still waiting. "Do you think I should be a doctor?"

Yato blinked at her, this question infinitely harder than the last. But he'd said it a million times to himself, hadn't he? What he always pictured her as? "You always… you seem like you'd be a good teacher."

"See? Ami always says the same thing." Hiyori tapped her fingers until he finally relented and moved a hand on top of hers, just covering it. "But I still don't know. I think I'd like to work at the hospital next year, reception or something, and just see if I even like being that much into it."

He sighed, "And if you don't?"

"I'll decide then." Those words felt alien to her, the concept of just letting things happen, letting them evolve, only blossoming out of this thing with them. Regardless of the strangeness, it felt right. "But that's it. Everything from now on, I'm deciding."

"OK," he managed to laugh, the serious resolution on her face suddenly humorous. "You're the boss."

* * *

Hiyori forced herself to open the door slowly, the anticipation making her skin crawl. It was another Yukine special, this time a navy sweater with light grey pants obscured only for a moment before Hiyori yanked his jacket off and danced it to the hallway closet, hearing his soft laughter behind her. "Hiyori…" his hand found the small of her back as she hung the jacket up completely.

"You'll do just fine." She pressed back against him for a moment, that scent of his enveloping her with just as much comfort as her own words.

Yato reached past her, fishing into the pocket of the coat. It relinquished a box about as big as the pocket itself. "For your mom," he cooed, earning him a surprised look from Hiyori.

"Is that from…?"

"Yeah, Kazuma told me." His smile widened, bolstered by at least this base being covered.

Hiyori smiled, adding a little eye roll at the insufferable grin of victory on his own face. "Watch out or she'll think you're sucking up."

"Me?" Yato's eyes went wide before he cracked, the laugh ruining any look of surprise.

Hiyori took his hand, pulling him back through the entryway to the living room. Takamasa instantly stood but Sayuri was a little on the slower side, her eyes falling suspiciously to the box. "Yato, this is my father, Iki Takamasa, and my mother, Iki Sayuri." It suddenly dawned on her that there wasn't a surname for him, something she'd always neglected to even think of let alone ask him.

"Tanaka Yato." He bowed easily as if this wasn't the first time she'd ever seen him do it. The falsehood of the moment, of that name, struck her and she had to pinch at the skin of her thigh to keep her head from swimming.

"It's nice to see you again." Takamasa put a firm hand on Yato's shoulder, an instant of shock slipping through his otherwise guarded features.

Yato cleared his throat. "Yes, sir, I'm sorry about-"

"Apologizing isn't necessary," Sayuri cut him off. Without a moment's hesitation, she took the chocolates out of his hands, a thin smile spreading across her lips. "Especially since you've come prepared." It seemed as if Yato could finally breathe as soon as the box escaped his fingers, neither of her parents harboring smiles that struck him as false or forced.

Takamasa patted that hand to Yato's shoulder again. "Now that you're here we can start dinner."

Hiyori took Yato's elbow and started pulling him towards the kitchen. Yato slowed them upon entering, seeing Masaomi leaned against the counter, cell phone glued to his ear and voice low. "I have to go," he said as if it were all one word and hung up, offering the two of them weak smiles. "Hey, Yato."

"How's it going?" Yato extended a hand but it didn't get to its intended destination as Sayuri quickly slipped in behind them, pushing the two of them along.

"So nice of you to finally join us, Masaomi," she chirped.

"You don't need my help to torture Yato," he chimed back, both mother and son staring at each other with tight smiles. "Or has she been playing nice?" His eyes slid to Yato.

"Everything's fine!" Sayuri wrapped a hand around Masaomi's bicep, pulling him to follow the group she was already ushering.

Hiyori allowed herself to fall a little begin, breaking the connection between mother and son. "He brought her chocolates," she whispered.

"Oh," Masaomi elongated the vowel, making sure to nudge Hiyori. "Maybe he does have a future."

"Masaomi," Hiyori huffed, pinching at the fine inner flesh of her brother's arm and making him yelp.

"Behave," Sayuri cooed back to her brood, turning her attention back to Yato. Things seemed to settle as each one took a spot around the table. Sayuri went about opening dishes, the room filled with the pleasant aromas of a smorgasbord, too many dishes to count for the people at the table. "How is your brother, Yato?"

"Yukine's doing fine," Yato instantly fed back. "Hiyori's doing a great job getting him on track with his school work."

"I'm sure that's what she does at the apartment," Masaomi smirked long enough to get a hard kick to the shin from Hiyori.

Sayuri's face only soured momentarily before her eyes singled in on Yato again. "And your schooling? Have you been giving more thought to-"

"Sayuri, let the boy eat," Takamasa patted her hand, motioning towards Yato with his chopsticks. "You have all night to ask questions."

There was a quick _hmph_ from Sayuri before she started to arrange food on her plate, her eyes sending secret messages to her husband, who simply chuckled.

For what seemed like an eternity to Yato, the group picked at the dishes across the table. It was hard to keep his mind on the food, catching glances at Hiyori long enough to see her glowing each time, her eyes shining with what he felt to be misplaced pride. _Is this going well? Does it even matter if it does go well? You might as well ask for her hand with how much good it will do._

As Sayuri opened her mouth again, this time not for food, Yato braced himself but found her chatting at her eldest, Masaomi jovially rolling his eyes at his mother's playful diatribe about his artist choices. It was as if she had forgotten all about the point of this evening, to rip him apart and show he wasn't ready for their daughter and was now busy going about the regular family business. Next was Hiyori with her recount of the week, Ami and Yama business, and finally an update on graduation plans. By the time the food was being cleared from the table, any of the questions for Yato had been avoided.

Yato had stood and tried to gather plates in his hand, but Hiyori snatched them away, allowing Takamasa to come to his side and place a firm hand on his shoulder. "Come on, Yato, let's get out of the way."

"Sure." Eloquence was always Yato's top skill and he barely caught the groan of anxiety at the fact before Takamasa led him back into the living room, motioning towards the couch.

"After dinner I'm sometimes allowed a little scotch, as long as there's company." Takamasa busied himself at the bar, pouring amber liquid into a glass. "Do you drink?"

"I, uh, beer sometimes. I can't say I've really gotten into that kind of stuff." Yato felt his palms break out into a sweat, watching as Takamasa poured a finger's worth into a second glass.

"Indulge with me, then." He handed Yato the second glass, the waft of alcohol causing a roll in his stomach. "I have to admit I'm glad you finally came to dinner."

"Really?" Yato couldn't help himself, even with his internal voice still screaming about the point, the purpose to all of this.

Takamasa eased back into the couch, taking a moment to not only sip from his glass but to survey the room, checking for the eyes and ears of the rest of the family. "I think I treated you unfairly, Yato."

"Oh, no, really, sir," the words came quickly as if they were one.

"No, I did," Takamasa refused to budge. "I'm protective of Hiyori, but that's hardly an excuse. I was ready to dismiss you as if money was all you were after."

His gut tightened, but he forced a breath, "About that, sir. I… I'd like to give that money back to you if you'll take it."

Takamasa let out an affable laugh, closing it with another sip of his scotch. "Consider it a wedding gift."

"Oh, I, that's not, sir," his tongue was a jumbled mess while Takamasa's laugh rumbled again.

"Or just maybe some incentive to go back to school like Sayuri is pushing." Takamasa shrugged, his laugh dying off with a sigh. "I won't expect that first any time soon. Hiyori is young, and I wish she'd give herself time to grow before that kind of decision. That's not to say I don't see how taken she is with you."

"Hiyori should live her life." The words felt bitter on his tongue and he finally drenched it with a sip of alcohol, trying to focus on that flavor instead. "That's what I want for her first. I'm glad to be a part of that life if I can, but… she should think of herself first."

Takamasa seemed surprised by the comment, mulling it over as swished the liquor around his glass. "That's something my daughter is rarely capable of doing. If she loves someone, it's rarely a question of if she'll sacrifice but what she'll sacrifice."

_I love her so much that I won't let her_, rushed into his mind and it was all he could do from screaming it. Instead, he took another sip from the glass, finding the flavor not growing on him but the burn an appealing sensation, a welcome diversion. To make matters worse, he heard footsteps, saw her delicate face peering around the corner, eyeing the two of them with satisfaction. Yato locked eyes with her, hoping that the begging in them was apparent.

"I hope you're not telling embarrassing stories," Hiyori cooed as she broke from her hiding spot.

Yato was beginning to notice that Takamasa had a smile just for his daughter, "No, just enjoying a drink!"

"Ugh," Hiyori wrinkled her nose as she sat next to Yato, noticing the glass in his hand. "Don't just drink that out of courtesy."

Yato smirked before taking another sip, watching as her face turned towards a grimace. "It's fine." It was beginning to be a good burn, a needed cleanse from his thoughts. _What will she sacrifice?_

It wasn't long before Sayuri and Masaomi joined them, the room warm with voices and stories. Yato couldn't help but notice that he wasn't on trial, there were no hidden questions, tests, just the soft exchanges of family. Sayuri hadn't even brought up school again, a topic he was almost aching to lie about, to promise a solid future when he knew his own was so bleak. Maybe he wanted those questions just so he could prove to himself that he was solid, a corporeal being in their lives rather than the ghost.

The harrowing truth was there: he was accepted. They would love him just because she did and because he loved her. The simplicity of it was agonizing. Yato tried not to let the reality come crashing down on him, that he in days, hours, minutes could hurt them all.

* * *

Hiyori had decided to busy herself with making tea since Yato still seemed out on one of his jobs, probably sidetracked by one of his regulars like Mariko. Yukine was watching her, propped up by his elbow on the island. He had taken a couple breaths, stops and starts, before finally letting the words out, "How did it go with your parents?"

"Yato didn't tell you?" Hiyori rolled her eyes just for herself as she arranged cups for the three of them.

"He said it was fine." Yukine let a little of a laugh tumble from his lips, "Which means it was fine or it was a complete mess and he's trying to cover it up."

The cups clinked together as she tried to juggle all three, barely making the distance from the counter to the island. As she turned for the teapot she sighed, her fingers wrapping around the handle. "It went perfectly."

"Like, not even one fuck up?"

"Watch your language," Hiyori huffed as she transferred the teapot in front of him.

Yukine rolled his eyes, "Sure, mom." He grabbed the teapot from her, pouring her cup first. "But not even one _mess_ up?"

"Not one," Hiyori chimed.

Yukine shook his head, moving to his own cup. "I don't believe it."

"Well-" The doorbell broke Hiyori away from the convincing rendition of dinner she was about to perform for Yukine. She started to move towards the door but Yukine pushed in front of her, giving her a stay-put look at the threshold of the kitchen.

Yukine opened the door, Hiyori staying where she was ordered. She couldn't see who was there, just hear the sharp intake of breath as Yukine fumbled to keep her view obscured.

"Hello, Yukine." It was a tiny voice and it sent Hiyori rushing forward, clasping the door and pulling it from Yukine's fingers.

"Ebi?" Hiyori focused first on the little boy before letting her eyes drift to the grown version of him.

Yukine pressed his back into the wall, giving the little boy space as if he were contagious. "Oh, hello, Hiyori." Ebi occupied the space Yukine gave up, holding out his hand to Hiyori.

Hiyori shook it, her eyes wandering back to Yukine. He looked terrified, holding his breath as he tried to blend into the wall. "Um, hello Ebi, Ebisu."

Ebisu put a soft hand on his son's shoulder. "Would you mind if we come in?"

"No, please, come in." The moment started to take a dreamy quality, surreal as Ebisu and Ebi walked through the door and into their kitchen. "Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, thank you." Ebisu stood dutifully beside the counter until Yukine slipped in and waved him towards the seats at the island. Ebisu lifted Ebi into a seat and stood next to the boy, happily accepting the teacup Hiyori offered to him. "We're sorry to interrupt."

"How did you know where we live?" Yukine question was short, throwing any genial act out the window.

Yukine's tone went right over Ebi's head and he smiled contently as he answered, "Yato isn't so great at being secretive."

Hiyori tried to slip in but Yukine wasn't done, his attention still deftly focused on Ebisu. "How many other people know that we're here?"

"I don't think you're in danger if that's what you're asking." Ebisu put a soft hand on Ebi's head, "You and Hiyori are safe."

Hiyori finally found her voice, "What about Yato?"

Ebisu looked down to Ebi, nodding slowly. Ebi looked quizzically for a moment before he seemed to arrange the right words in his mind. "Your dinner party yesterday was supposed to be ruined. Yato asked a favor and we stepped in, but Yato knew what this meant. He went back to his father this morning."

Again that feeling of surreality as if the whole world had dropped out from underneath her. "I don't… He's gone?"

"Yes, taken this morning."

_Taken_. It reverberated through to her soul.

"He would have said something!" Yukine refused to let the nonsense of his words catch up to him. "He wouldn't just disappear without telling at least one of us."

Ebisu put a hand on Yukine's shoulder firmly. "He's gone."

Hiyori watched as the denial in Yukine's face washed from anger to terror. "You're full of shit." It was less a growl and more a whimper and he wrenched his shoulder from Ebisu's grasp. Yukine practically fell off the seat, trying to make space between him and Ebisu.

"How do you know?" Hiyori's tried to hold on to her senses but she could hear her voice trembling.

"Otosan has had dealings with Yato's father in the past. Information still comes to us from them sometimes, especially big news." Ebi's face started to scrunch in confusion. "But Yato's done this before, right? Why are you so scared?"

"Not with us," Hiyori whispered, trying to smile, trying to force some kind of face just to placate a child while her mind was reeling. "Him leaving, it's new for us. I'm not scared, I'm…" She trailed off, having to press her fingers to her mouth to choke back a sob. _I am though, aren't I? So scared. It's almost like I'm sure he's already dead._

"Ebi, I think it's time we left," Ebisu began to usher the boy off the seat.

"Please," Hiyori let it out as a shout, her hand reaching for him, "Tell me where."

Ebi looked up at Ebisu who shook his head. "There's no where. He disappears."

"But you have to know something." Hiyori's hand connected with his sleeve, pulling herself closer to him. "You know he's gone, you know about his past, where would he be?"

Ebisu put a cold, clammy hand over hers, detaching her fingers delicately from his sleeve. "Again, the underworld that Yato exists in is infinite. There's no way to find him, to pinpoint a spot he is at any given moment." Ebisu didn't wait for a reply, only ushered his son in front of him, turning the pair towards the door.

"That's impossible. There has to be a way to find him, to contact him." Hiyori dared to take one step closer, stopping in her tracks as Ebisu paused to glance over his shoulder back at her.

Ebisu seemed to muse over this for a moment before blinking blankly at her, "You might as well be yelling his name into cracks in the ground." The strangeness of his words strangled her, kept Hiyori silent as he made the rest of the way out of the apartment.

She felt Yukine crash into her, his arm wrapping awkwardly around her waist, not sure of where to go but needing to hold on to her. Hiyori took out her phone, clicking on Yato's name. "_Please don't disappear."_


	13. Days 1-10

"_Yato, this is day 1."_

She waited, unable to scroll away from the message.

"_Please text back. I'm not forgetting."_

* * *

Yato locked the door behind him. Granted, if Nora tried to come by now he might have some explaining to do, but better than her sneaking in on the conversation. He took his phone out of his pocket, looking at the SMS alert for today.

"_Yato, this is day 5. I want you to come back."_

Delete. Every day he had to delete it. He could rationalize that it kept her safe in case someone ever got curious about his phone, but it was really that seeing it made his guts feel like they were chewing on rocks. She'd stop soon, he knew it, but in the meantime, it was his daily dose of misery.

He scrolled through the contacts, his finger hovering for a few extra breaths before clicking. By the time he got his ear to the phone, the ring cut off.

"Hello?" Kofuku chimed.

He cursed his luck. "It's me."

"Yatty?" He hated the excitement in her voice. At this point, Kofuku should know that any call from him would just bring disaster.

Thankfully, the phone shuffled and he heard the voice he was looking for, "What the hell do you think you're doing, calling here?"

"Just who I wanted to talk to," Yato cooed.

"Like hell. What do you want?" The phone almost felt like it trembled from Daikoku's growl.

"I need you to meet me," Yato tried to keep the desperation out of his voice.

"If you think I'm going to-"

"If you want me to beg on my knees when we get there, I will. You know I will," His voice scratched through gritted teeth.

The paused filled with the sound of Daikoku lighting a cigarette. "Where?"

"You know the place."

* * *

"_Yato, this is day 6. I'm going to Mariko's."_

Hiyori knocked, not having the nerve or familiarity to walk in like Yato.

Mariko only looked surprised for a moment, wrinkles unwrinkled, before waving Hiyori into the kitchen. "Did something happen to Yato?"

"He's… unavailable right now. He sent me to help out." Lying always made Hiyori's tongue feel swollen as if each one made it grow in her mouth. "I wasn't exactly sure what he usually gets you, but I bought groceries."

"Anything is fine, dear." Mariko took the bag from Hiyori and started to unpack it. Hiyori started to move for the hallway, preparing herself for the clean-up half of her assignment when a gentle hand touched her arm. "He's gone again, isn't he?" Mariko finished with a sigh.

"Yes," Hiyori didn't want to know the again part, didn't want to admit the truth, but there was no lying now, not while looking directly into Mariko's eyes.

Mariko patted Hiyori, motioning for her to stay where she was. "You know when a bone breaks you should always go to the doctor to have it set."

Hiyori nodded, the strange turn in conversation disorienting her to silence.

"If you don't, it doesn't heal right. You walk around broken, bent, not right." Mariko leaned against the counter, a hand coming thoughtfully to her chin. "To fix it, you have to break it again before you can actually put it right."

"Are you alright, Mariko?"

Mariko chuckled in the face of Hiyori's worry. "Yato's broken like that. Something hurt him a long time ago, and no one fixed it. Now he's crooked, and that won't change without more pain for him. And probably pain for those around him, too." She nodded at Hiyori. "When you see him, be gentle with him. He will be broken again, but hopefully this time someone will set it right."

* * *

Yato leaned against the brick, rubbing his knuckles against the rough surface in search of relief. He hoped that Daikoku was purposely keeping him waiting and not one of the horrible alternatives.

"Yo," came the rough voice, the waft of cigarette smoke.

"Thanks for coming." Daikoku frowned as a reply and Yato knew why. He didn't look so great and probably hadn't for the last couple of days. Father hadn't exactly been pleased and Yato's ribs had taken the brunt of it but there was still a peppering of black and blue accentuating a split lip. "I know I don't have any right to ask anything of you."

"Damn right you don't," Daikoku spat. "I should give you a black eye to match that lip."

"Go ahead," Yato took a step towards him, spreading his arms.

Daikoku pushed Yato's shoulder, creating a space between them. "What do you want, anyway?"

"I want you to take this money." Yato pulled the paper bag out of his jacket pocket, offering it to Daikoku.

He put a firm hand up, "I'm not getting involved in your-"

"It's not from Father. It's not a job. It's from me to you so you can do a few favors for me."

"So it's not a _job_, it's a _favor_?"

Yato sighed, pushing the money into his palm. "Half of it goes to Kazuma to take care of Yukine. The other half is for you to make sure no one knows about Hiyori and to make sure to get rid of them if they do."

Daikoku slapped the bag out of his hand, "And why aren't those things that you can do?"

The only thing keeping Yato from punching him was his need for this to go smoothly, for Daikoku to do as he asked. "This is _me_, Daikoku. We both know what I am and I was stupid to think-"

"Yeah, yeah," Daikoku leaned down, snatching the money and shoving it in his pocket. "You're chicken shit, that's what you are. You were changing, Yato. You're still changed or else you wouldn't have called me here in the first place."

"It's not enough!" Yato sent a fist into the bricks, the pain reverberating to his teeth. "Do you know what they'd do if they knew even half of it? Yukine _thinks_ he knows, but Hiyori, if she knew? I'm protecting them."

"So I take your blood money to make sure nothing happens to them instead of you just being with them, keeping them safe all on your own?"

"You know it's not that easy," Yato hissed.

"Nothing with you is easy." Daikoku lit another cigarette off the tail of the old one.

Yato shuffled his feet, examining his knuckles, red and one split from their meeting with the wall. "I can get you more, maybe every two weeks."

"For how long?" Daikoku sighed.

"Until my luck runs out."

* * *

"_Yato, this is day 10." _Sent this morning at 6:30 AM.

Every day, when she woke up, and again when she went to bed.

"_I'm tutoring Yukine again."_

Hiyori looked up from her one-sided text wall, seeing the blond boy with the cap of his pen pressed to his lip, staring down the paper as if pure mental force would fill the page. "Stuck?" Hiyori tossed her phone to the side, knowing it would not buzz, and leaned over the paper with Yukine. "Look at that word again."

Yukine took a long breath as he scratched out part of the sentence, restarting it. For someone who hadn't been in school for who knows how long, Yukine was an attentive student and was actually flying through her middle school workbooks. _Sometimes it pays to keep these old things._

"How about this?" Yukine pushed back in his chair, pointing to the writing after the blob of his scribble.

"That's it!" Hiyori nudged him. "Great job!"

"Does that mean I can quit for tonight?" Yukine groaned, pushing the mess of papers further back on his desk.

"You only worked for an hour tonight." She hated pushing him, but if he wasn't doing this it seemed like he drifted around the apartment aimlessly or wandered out to the streets, only coming home after Daikoku picked him up from some obscure location.

"I just, I need some air." His eyes shifted away from her. "Thanks again, Hiyori."

"Then let's go out together," Hiyori put her hand on his arm, trailing it down to his hand.

"No, that's OK," Yukine pulled his hand away as if it had touched a flame, forcing himself to his feet.

Hiyori sighed, "Be honest with me, Yukine. Are you looking for him?"

"As if there's a point," Yukine immediately spat back, his arms across his chest.

"That's not what I asked, was it?" There was a tired quality in her voice that she'd been hearing more and more ever since Yato was gone. It was like her batteries were draining with nothing to recharge.

Yukine focused on his feet, flexing his toes against the floor. "I looked one or two places. Other than that," he threw his hands up, letting them fall to his side with a weak flap.

Hiyori tried to wipe the insecurity from her voice, her smile soft and maternal. "He'll come home."

Yukine stared at her for a moment, his eyes searching her face. "Yeah." Everything in him was concentrated on holding himself together.

"I want you to stay home tonight."

"Stop trying to mom me to death." There was only a little humor in his voice and Hiyori still felt a sting at the comment. "I don't really need to be around while Veena's here anyway."

Hiyori had been so focused on Yukine that she had forgotten about another little dinner date unfolding in the kitchen. Kazuma had been conveniently forgetting a lot of documents in the apartment. It brought a smile to her lips and she finally felt some of the edge falling away from the conversation. "Come over to my house for dinner, then."

"What?" Yukine had to pick up his jaw.

"I may have told my parents you were Yato's little brother," she giggled. "So, they wouldn't mind meeting you, too."

"His brother," Yukine pretended to hurl.

"It's not that bad." Hiyori rolled her eyes at his drama, finally standing up from her own chair to get close enough to him to grab his hand. "I promise, no probing questions. Just food and a place away from the lovebirds."

His hand flexed in hers as the thoughts ran through his mind. "OK. Let me get changed."

"You don't have to-"

Yukine pulled his hand away, his eyes focusing away from her. "If I show up there looking like a slob I'll just make Yato look bad."

Hiyori just smiled, the idea that maybe Yukine hadn't given up on him yet easing some of the pain from her heart. She turned from him, moving through the door and closing it behind her. She could hear Veena talking from the kitchen so she moved towards the voice, finding Veena on the phone as Kazuma bustled around the kitchen. Veena offered a gentle wave as she finally came into sight.

"Yukine's going to come over to my house for dinner," Hiyori chimed towards Kazuma, making sure not to interrupt Veena.

"Interesting." Kazuma seemed like he wanted to press her but didn't continue, his eyes flicking towards Veena for a moment.

Veena ended the call, her face transforming back into a soft, sociable smile. "Where's Yato tonight?"

Hiyori's eyes focused on Kazuma, trying to read the indecipherable look on his face. There was worry there, but what else? Fear? Regardless, she couldn't reign in her words, the rawness of the event still pressing into her gut. "He's missing."

"What?" Veena's smile dissipated. "Why didn't you tell me?" She directed this at Kazuma, a hand coming to his elbow to force him to stay in place.

"It's only been a few days," Kazuma replied lamely, his eyes still not telling Hiyori the whole story.

"That's already too long. We're not too busy right now. I could get my people on this." Her phone was back her hand, typing notes instantly, her smile tightened into a thoughtful frown. "Hiyori, what was the last-"

"Don't, Veena." Kazuma put a hand over the screen, causing Veena's eyes to jump to his. "We'll… talk about it later, alright? Hiyori's just leaving."

Veena looked at Hiyori as if trying to read a text in another language. It didn't help that Hiyori had no idea what to feel or what to think, giving away no identifiable emotions. "I'd prefer we didn't talk about it," Hiyori added, seeing some relief come to Kazuma's face. "He'll come back when he comes back."

"OK," Yukine shouted from the hall, making all three jump.

"Coming!" Hiyori chimed taking one last look at Kazuma before catching up with Yukine and starting the journey home. It seemed as if Yato was always wrapped in some kind of secret, whether it was something he did himself or now something of Kazuma's creation. Unraveling at least this one would have to wait, but as Hiyori got to the street, Yukine close behind, her phone buzzed.

"_We have to talk about Yato and Veena."_


	14. Days 15-21

I really apologize for the lateness and pathetic size of the update. Hang on, I swear I'm getting to this.

* * *

Yato stripped down to his underwear, his faithful old tracksuit saturated in blood. Nora had pushed him, taunted him, pulling those strings like only she knew how and now all he had was blood on his hands.

Didn't he use to love this?

Didn't there use to be some kind of purpose to it?

Didn't watching the life drain from someone's eyes fill him with exhilaration?

He wanted to watch the life in her eyes as they lay on the couch.

He wanted the purpose of his odd jobs.

He wanted to be free to love.

In the quiet of the bathroom he heard the phone buzz in the other room, sending him almost sprinting, rushing to see the message as it illuminated the screen.

"_Yato, this is day 15. I hope you're not hurting. I want you to be safe."_

An eerie, strangling noise squeezed from his throat. Deleting that message was the hardest one yet.

* * *

Hiyori had been waiting in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and watching the clock as she decided what she'd say to him as he walked through the door. It finally clicked, Kazuma's weary features barely brightening as the sight of her face. "I feel like you've been avoiding me."

"Honestly, I have." Kazuma sighed and dropped his bag to the floor against the wall.

She huffed, her feelings alternating between being thankful for his honesty and being annoyed with his behavior. "It's bad, then?"

"It's complex." Kazuma walked past her and opened the fridge, taking out a beer. He cracked it open, taking a moment to tip it back, looking more like it was out of necessity rather than pleasure. Even after bringing the can back from his lips, Kazuma paused and stared as if the fridge door had suddenly become a textbook to study.

Hiyori only had so much patience. "Did you tell Veena anything else?"

"No," Kazuma spat the words out as if he didn't believe she'd ask the question in the first place. "But you ripped up the folder that would have told you all this months ago. Are you sure it's what you want now?"

She felt that creeping itch that she was betraying Yato, not waiting for his confidence. "He's not here to ask, is he?"

Kazuma took another slow sip before putting the beer on the island and leaned against the wall. "Veena's company is technically private security but some would call them mercenaries and others vigilanties. Veena would say that they're making the world a better place, but her team hasn't always upheld that message." His mouth gaped as if he needed more air and he had to clear his throat before continuing. "Securing information has always been my job and I stumbled over some well hidden and dangerous communication between her old team that was a threat, not just to her business but to her life."

"They wanted to kill her?" Hiyori almost found herself sputtering.

Kazuma took another break to drain another draft from his beer. "I have to admit that I didn't know that for sure, but there was dissension and distrust to the point where I felt Veena working with them was putting her in danger."

Hiyori took a breath, trying to force her mind to process this without flooding with emotion, dissolving the tenuous hold she had on reality. "What does that have to do with Yato?" That question was superfluous since she was mostly sure she could fill in the blanks of the story herself.

"I contacted Yato during that time. He was still… freelance." That last word brought a sour smile to his lips and Kazuma picked up the can again, trying to let the taste of malt wipe it away.

"You? You contacted someone you knew was a-" It was impossible not to cut herself off, not able to admit the reality of his past.

"I did, and I asked him to fix the problem." Kazuma's jaw was tight, his eyes diverted to the writing on the can. "As far as Veena knows, Yaboku was the one behind the deaths."

"But not that Yato is Yaboku." Hiyori's fists were clenching tighter into the fabric of her skirt. "And not that _you_ asked him to do that."

"No on both counts," Kazuma murmured.

Hiyori wanted to rip at her hair, to scream, to throw herself to the floor like a wild child in a rage because Kazuma, Kazuma of all people… "But then why would he live with you? Why didn't he recognize you, Veena, and know that this wasn't a good idea?" _He can't possibly be that stupid_.

"He never met me," Kazuma sighed. "All digital and encrypted requests sent through a third party. There wasn't even a name to connect the two of us. Veena… technically, Veena he should know but I assume that when he could put a face to the name the two of you were already…"

Hiyori had never been good at weighing the scales, deciding what was utilitarian or selfish, and a part of her knew that her heart was too invested here, too injured and strained from the past few weeks. "You have to tell her. We have to ask her for her help."

The can crunched in his hand, crinkling under the rage building in his fist. "Hiyori…"

"What?" She snapped, her fists unclenched just to allow her hands to slap to the table. "You did something _wrong_, Kazuma, so wrong. You might as well have murdered them yourself and you'll let Yato take the blame because you love her? Because you don't want to lose a relationship with this big fat lie in the middle of it?"

"As if you're one to talk," he spat back. "You just want to save him!"

"I do!" Hiyori slammed her hands again, the tears starting to gather in the corners of her eyes. "Because which one of us is better than him? Why does he deserve to be punished by living that life while all of us don't even bother to _try_ to atone for our sins?" She paused as if expecting an answer, hearing only the clink of the can collapsing a little more in his hand. "Decide. Decide by the end of the week what you're going to do. If you can't, if you won't, then I won't come back and I'll take Yukine with me."

* * *

"_Yato, this is day 20. I'm at Kofuku's. I wish you were here."_

Yato would probably be the only one able to diffuse the tension that seemed to draw tight strings through everyone in the room. It wasn't the first time she'd seen Daikoku or Kofuku since that night, especially since those two were at least being helpful when it came to keeping Yukine out of trouble, but those were passing moments. She had come to actually talk, the feeling that a month had almost ticked by weighing on her heart.

"How's school, Hiyori?" Kofuku seemed to be hanging on to her cheerful self, pouring tea and taking the time to lean into Hiyori for a quick cuddle.

"It feels slow. Everyone's making plans for summer vacation. My mom said maybe I should go visit my brother for a while, but I…" Hiyori forced a smile, letting Kofuku run a hand over her hair. "I don't want to be far away if he comes back."

Daikoku clicked his tongue. "If you're going to start all that again, you might as well go home."

"Daikoku, don't," Kofuku, while usually soft with him, shot her words sharply. "Daikoku heard from Yatty."

It was like a child tattling, and Daikoku immediately jumped as if he'd been struck. "Why would you tell her that?"

"And he's been meeting with Yatty every now and then, even though he doesn't think I know about it."

"You've seen him?" Hiyori grasped at the table, feeling as if her heart were crumbling. "You saw him and you didn't tell any of us, not even Yukine?"

"No one was supposed to know." Daikoku crossed his arms tighter to his chest, huffing as he leaned back into the wall. "All I'm doing is a favor for him, that's all. He's still being Yato."

"Take me with you," Hiyori slapped her hand against the table, making both Daikoku and Kofuku jump.

"No!" But he was bordering on stuttering, the resolve melting on his face.

Hiyori leaned herself over the table, her face hovering close to Daikoku's. "If you don't take me, I'll just follow you, which will probably put both of us in more danger. I'll do whatever you say while we're there, but take me with you."

Daikoku looked at his hands as if there was something there unclean. "I told you Yato isn't what you think he is. What are you going to do when you see something you don't like? When he acts like his real self?"

"I'll do whatever I have to."

* * *

_"Yato, this is day 21. Yukine is avoiding me. I wish you could talk to him."_

Yato sighed at the screen, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck. In all honesty, he longed for the normalcy of one of Yukine's diatribes, even if it meant that the scolding that was meant for Yukine really became some kind of attack on his own behavior. Yeah, right, at this point the kid's probably not-

His thoughts were cut off at the sound of the bouncers having a good laugh at the door, a blond head of hair mostly obscured by their thick biceps creating a terror that was like a beast awakening in his chest. Yato tried to force himself to a slow stroll, as if the playful confrontation at the door was a form of amusement for him, seeing more of that youthful face, the amber eyes glowing as soon as they caught sight of him. _Play it smart, Yukine,_ Yato urged with every ounce of mental strength.

Without so much as a look of recognition, Yukine took a step back, still yelling at the bouncers. "I thought a job was a job for _Amagiri no Mikoto_."

"That's a big name to be throwing around, kid." Yato leaned into one of the bouncers, peeking at Yukine from behind him.

"The kid thinks he deserves an audience," the bouncer offered, laughing at the child's idiocy.

"Well, if he wants _Amagiri no Mikoto_, maybe he should get him." Yato slipped through the larger men, grabbing Yukine by the collar. Guilt crept into his gut, suddenly remembering how Hiyori had scolded him for roughhousing, but he had known that if he didn't put on a show now, there was a chance Yukine wouldn't get out. "Saying that name brings you nothing but grief, kid." He yanked Yukine out of the bar entrance and into one of the side alleys, throwing him against the wall as controlled as he could.

Yukine put in a good effort, the exertion looking almost too genuine. Those golden eyes scanned behind Yato and both of them waited, hearing no more from any other inhabitant of the bar. The expectation of beating a child mustn't have been that interesting.

"You OK?" Yato released his hold, letting Yukine stand on his own.

"That's a stupid question, but I should have expected it from an idiot like you." Yukine fixed his shirt before crossing his arms over his chest.

Yato took another step back to give him room to breathe, shooting his head over his shoulder again to look for any new movement. "OK, I get it, you're pissed, but that doesn't give you a right to act so recklessly."

"You're one to talk," Yukine growled, planting a firm finger in his chest. "You promised no more of this shit." Yato wanted the tone to remind him of a kid's temper tantrum, but it was commanding.

"I promised I'd keep you from your dad and I did that. That's what I promised." Yato hated himself for the correction, for trying to erase all the subtleties of his pact with Yukine.

"You're full of it," he hissed. That finger came back to a fist that crashed into Yato's chest. "We were supposed to be a team. I'm supposed to be your guide, remember? Or was that all bullshit, too?"

"Yukine…"

"And Hiyori! Do you know-"

Yato's fist connected with the wall next to his head, the thud of flesh against stone shocking Yukine into silence. "I can't hear about her right now." His fist came back slowly, blood starting to ooze from a split knuckle. "I just can't."

While maybe he had registered Yato's need for pity, Yukine threw it to the side, letting it simply feed his anger. "Do you know she sleeps in your bed sometimes? I just find her there after school." Yukine took a step forward, batting at Yato's injured hand. "I assume she just cries until she falls asleep, but she wouldn't dare admit that or let me see it. But that's it. Other than that, it's normal Hiyori, happily tutoring me, shopping with Kazuma, keeping us fed. She's carrying every last bit of it while you're out here being selfish."

"Selfish?" Yato choked on the surprise of the word.

"You'd rather hold on to your past than completely risk it all of her," Yukine spat the words out like poison.

"I'm trying!" Yato threw up his hands before bringing them to his hair, tugging as he slipped his fingers through.

"There's no trying, Yato." Yukine reached into his jacket, taking out an envelope. "You have to do it or just don't even bother coming back." He pushed the package into Yato's hand.

"Is this…?"

"From Kazuma and me." A little pride shone in his eyes. "If you weren't such an idiot you would have just used us in the first place. Relying on us is smarter than coming out here by yourself."

"Well, I'm always wrong." Yato tried on a weak smile, feeling a little power added to it as he saw the satisfaction continue to grow on Yukine's face. He opened the top of the envelope, tipping it as if to make sure it actually contained something. The tips of papers started to tumble out followed by a five yen piece that rolled into the palm of his hand. "What's this?"

Yukine frowned, thinking over his words carefully as he examined the floor. "Hiyori's supposed to be happy, Yato. That was, is your job. It's not like I'm paying you, but it's a reminder. Do your job."


	15. Making Moves

Sorry you had to wait so long! I hope you like it, especially since I think I'm on a roll.

* * *

"_Yato, this is day 25. I hope you're not angry with me."_

Hiyori stared at the screen, realizing she was warning him without warning him. Anger wasn't something she imagined him capable of, especially not at her, but concern sat like a lump in her stomach. Daikoku was so convinced there was another Yato, a face behind the mask that he wore, and Hiyori thought that entity very capable of rage. But were they the same? Is that the person that she'd really see?

Daikoku had parked the car in a nondescript location, on a side street of a side street, and had started walking wordlessly. Hiyori followed him closely, keeping just as quiet as she watched the residential streets change to commercial run-down shops and bars. She'd definitely never been anywhere close to this neighborhood and she was sure if she mentioned it to her mother or father, if she even knew the name of it, they would both have turned white. This was a world completely separate from her own, the world Yaboku inhabited.

Hiyori ran into Daikoku's back as he stopped short. His hand tightened on her arm and he leaned into her, a waft of old smoke and musky cologne hitting her nose. "He'll be around the corner. Just… stay quiet, OK? We're never sure who's nearby and if you made a fuss…"

"I know," she murmured back. It wasn't like she was planning on screaming bloody murder as soon as she saw him, but it was going to be hard to check every reaction. In anticipation, she started to pinch at the skin of her thigh, letting the thin pain take her attention. She didn't hesitate in Daikoku's hold, just let him grip her arm tightly as he led her around the corner, ready to jerk her in any direction necessary.

The alleyway was barely lit, one light at each end the only thing offering help, leaving the middle decidedly dark. Hiyori had first hoped that that's where he was hidden because on first view it was empty, shadows and critters the only inhabitants. "Stay here," Daikoku muttered, pushing her to the wall. She obeyed, watching as he skulked forward, hand trailing along the brick.

Hiyori watched him walk into the middle of the darkness, slowing his steps until he let himself crouch. She resisted the urge to yell for him, watching as Daikoku quickly got his feet, almost jogging back to Hiyori. "Go," it was an order that came with a quick grab of her arm, pulling her out of the alleyway and back onto the street. Her heart was pounding, her eyes looking back again and again towards the entrance, hoping to see those bright blue eyes, that heartbreaking smile.

She felt Daikoku shove something in her hand and as her hands squeezed it she realized it was a phone, the screen cracked but as she hit the power button it still illuminated. Her own face stared back at her through the spiderwebbed screen, a picture Yato had taken of her outside a cafe. As she moved the phone to her right hand to see if she could manage to unlock it, she noticed the residue left in her palm. Not detritus from the alleyway, but a smear of deep red. It was his phone, away from him, half-broken, and splattered with blood.

* * *

It had gotten to the point where there was barely a trace of his scent left on his pillow and Hiyori had to squeeze, to really bury her face, to catch the last hint. She heard the footsteps, the hesitation at the door before they continued forward and the bed squeaked under the weight of another body. "Hiyori?" It was Yukine's voice at just above a whisper.

"Yeah?" She lifted her head and rested her chin on the pillow, eyes focused not on him but the headboard as the tears still threatened.

"What happened?" She knew it must have scared him because he actually produced the nerve to touch her, to put a shaking hand on her shoulder.

She reached her hand out to the nightstand, fingers gripping the phone again. Rolling over, her hand stretched out to put the phone in Yukine's face. "I wiped the blood off." How she could say that without screaming was beyond her, this whole evening feeling madness-inducing. She rolled back onto her stomach, clutching at the pillow again.

"Yato's phone…" He dropped it back onto the duvet, looking at his hands as if there was still red there.

"It was in the alley where Daikoku was supposed to meet him." Hiyori pressed her mouth into the pillow, making herself swallow that scream again.

"Maybe he…" but Yukine let his voice trail off, feeling like he could barely breathe. How could he be strong and explain this away? What rationale came to mind? To both of their surprises, Yukine opted to collapse on top of her, wrapping his arms around her neck. "Don't think it, Hiyori. If you start, I'm not sure I can stop myself from doing the same. Both of us have to believe."

Hiyori was suddenly reminded of how much of a child he still was, the still boy-sized chest pressed against her back. "Yato's alive," she murmured, letting her fingers gently touch Yukine's arm. They stayed like that for a few minutes, Yukine's grip tightening both protectively and needily, thoughts cycling between comforting and the need to be comforted. "Yukine?"

"Yeah, sorry." He finally forced himself to sit back up, arms hugging around himself rather than her.

"It wasn't that," Hiyori turned her head so he could see the soft smile. "Just… do you know the code for the phone?"

"Oh, yeah," Yukine shrugged, reaching out for the device again, facing concentrating on the screen. "1217." His thumb plugged in the numbers and the screen unlocked. He resisted the urge to scroll through, to try to find out his own information and tossed it back in Hiyori's direction. "It's… the month and day he made his deal with me."

Hiyori patted the bed next to her, "Will you tell me about that?"

Yukine stared at the bed next to her for a few deep breaths before stretching out across the bedspread. "Like about before? Or just Yato?"

"Anything you want," Hiyori reached out and laced her fingers with his. "I just… I'm starting to feel like I don't know anything about him or you, really."

Yukine focused on their hands. "I told you, he was different then, or maybe he was already starting to change but he… well, we met in the hospital." He forced a deep breath, his eyes far off as if the video was playing in his mind. "My dad tried to… the doctor said I should have been dead. Yato was the one who found me, too, took me out of the trunk, took me to the hospital. And when he came back, I thought it was to check on me but that's when he finally told me that he was supposed to finish the job."

Hiyori squeezed his fingers, her mouth opening to interrupt, to stop the obviously painful flood of memories. "I'm OK," he spat out quickly, shaking his head. "I remember being so scared because he's got those eyes, too cold to be human. He wasn't lying when he said I was going to die and I cried, didn't beg. I told him… I said it wasn't fair. I didn't get to have a life and now it was going to be gone." Yukine took his free hand and rubbed it over his face, letting it rest over his lips for a moment to gather his thoughts. "He asked me what I wanted most and I told him all I wanted was a family that loved me. He made me a deal." Yukine let a weak laugh play across his lips. "And I hate to admit it but that idiot almost had me believing it was possible. All of us together, it almost felt like that but now…"

"You still have me," Hiyori murmured as she ran a hand across the hair on his forehead, pushing it out of his eyes. "And when he… we're still a family, Yukine."

"The weirdest family, but sure," Yukine tried to offer her a smile. His eyes fell from hers, concentrating hard on the bedspread as if it were a puzzle. "Hey, Hiyori…"

"What is it?"

"I don't… don't get the wrong idea or anything…" Color was starting to creep up his cheeks. "Can I stay here with you tonight?"

Hiyori caught a laugh before it left her throat. "You mean sleep in Yato's bed?"

"Yeah." The red was now bright across his cheeks.

"Alright." Hiyori moved into a seated position, grabbing the phone that lay between them and putting it next to the pillow. Yukine followed suit and sat up, getting off the bed right after she did. Hiyori pulled back the comforter and then the sheets underneath. She hadn't planned on actually sleeping here tonight, especially since now just being in this room felt like his ghost was breathing down her neck, but there was no way in hell she'd say no to Yukine asking for closeness.

"Thanks, Hiyori," Yukine murmured as he collapsed back into the bed. He made sure to hug his side, his back as close to the edge as possible.

Hiyori finally let a little giggle tumble from her lips. "Family, right?"

"Right." Yukine pressed his face into the pillow, finding Hiyori's scent on it and quickly realizing, with a dawning embarrassment that of course Yato and she had slept in this bed. Probably done more than sleep, too, but Yukine was quickly pushing that idea off of the cliff of his mental map. He forced his eyes closed, feeling the bed move as Hiyori got back in.

"Good night," she murmured. Her hand reached out and smoothed his hair again, simply adding to Yukine's embarrassment instead of comfort as she had hoped.

"Night," he grumbled. Yukine listened to her breathing, hearing at first the firm in and out of someone nowhere near sleep. He waited, counting the minutes, relaying facts in his mind to keep himself from falling victim to the warmth and weight of the comforter. It took time, but her breathing slowed, a few short murmurs of sleep-induced nothings the only sound filling the room. Yukine opened his eyes slowly and focused for a moment on the way her chestnut hair cascaded across the pillow.

He held his breath as his hand slid forward, fingers gently closing over the phone next to Hiyori's pillow. With a slow exhale, he waited for her eyes to open, for her own hand to shoot over his but it didn't. Hiyori was silent and still as he pulled the phone back and clutched it to his chest. Pausing again, Yukine took one last look at her face before rolling over, counting away a minute before getting up and out of the bed. He crept slowly to the door and into the hallway to the bathroom, shutting the door and locking it behind him.

The screen illuminated and Yukine was frozen in place by Hiyori's face staring back at him. Suddenly it was as if her eyes were on him and he had to pause, listening to the silence of the apartment. It was the guilt that was slowing him, the thought that if he didn't succeed she would lose two instead of one and how is that fair? Lamely he tried to assure himself of his own unimportance before starting the scroll through the contacts. His finger hovered over the name for a few shaky breaths before tapping it to call.

It was only two rings before the pickup, "Yato?" Ebisu sounded as shocked as he could get, making the statement sound like a hard question.

"It's Yukine," his voice trembled as he tried to grip the sink to steady himself.

"Hold on a moment," Ebisu's voice was flat again, any inflection of emotion hidden away. There was shuffling, tapping, a second voice further in the background before a final thunk. "You're on speaker with Kunimi. I hope you don't mind."

The nicety of the explanation hit Yukine strangely, making hanging up the phone now very tempting. "Kunimi, it's Yukine."

"Yato's kid, right? I mean, the one he takes care of," Kunimi corrected himself, the external clarification he'd gotten used to with his boss's missing memory.

"Right," Yukine breathed. There was a tense beat of silence, time that felt like eons in Yukine's mind as he wrote and rewrote the sentences in his head. "Something's happened to Yato."

"He's gone," Ebisu's voice was without intonation. "There's no something other than that."

It was enough that a speck of rage started to grow in Yukine's chest. This wasn't mundane, it's not just a loss that could be written off as a just because, as something bound to happen. "I know you owe him, I know he has favors with you. How many or for what I don't know but I'm calling them in."

"What?" It was Kunimi, Ebisu eerily silent. "You want us to help you with what exactly? Getting him out from his old man's compound? Are you insane?" Each question hit another octave and Yukine was glad he'd opted for the phone call, sure that the man's huge physical presence would make hearing those questions even more terrifying.

"I don't know," Yukine shot back, feeling his voice reverberate in the small space. He feared that Hiyori would wake, especially after that shout but he was in no place to go silent. "He needs help and I can't do it by myself."

The start of Kunimi's voice was cut short by a rustle at the other end. "What are you willing to pay?"

Yukine had never been rich, would never, but it struck him that that wasn't what Ebisu was asking for. There wasn't a purse that could be filled that could be weighed against Yato's life, against saving his existence. "I owe him my life. I'd be… I'd die if I had to. I'd trade that much to protect him, to protect what we have."

The silence stirred Yukine's stomach, twisting it into a knot as he counted the breaths it took before Ebisu spoke again. "I'm going to send you an address. Be there in two hours."

"Yes, sir," Yukine gaped. This was not supposed to work, Ebisu was supposed to hang up on him, laughing hysterically while doing so. Two short beeps signaled the end of the phone call but Yukine was motionless, the phone still pressed tightly to his ear. He stayed that way, frozen in the quiet of the apartment until the phone buzzed against his face. As he lowered it, the screen showed the text, an address clear across town in Ebisu's territory. It would take time to get there, especially without any help and this knowledge spurred him forward, soft steps returning to his bedroom.

There was no option to return the phone to Hiyori and he purposefully avoided going back into Yato's bedroom, worried that just the sight of her would somehow derail his courage. Yukine changed quickly, black everything head to toe, a hoodie and a face mask for the sake of obscurity. He settled the mask under his chin, pocketed the phone, and stood quietly in the hallway, fighting with himself about the last step.

Instead of going to the kitchen he walked to the end of the hall, opening the door without bothering to knock. It was late enough that Kazuma was in bed and Yukine knew that Veena had not been by that day so there was no chance of a surprise. As the door creaked open, the older boy turned in the bed, instantly grasping for his glasses on the nightstand. "Yukine?"

"Yeah." His tongue felt thick in his mouth. "I need you to do me a favor."

"What? What time is it?" Kazuma answered his own question with a glance to the nightstand as he put on his glasses.

Yukine swallowed hard, "You need to promise me that you'll make Hiyori stay here tonight."

"What?" Kazuma turned on the lamp, the light flooding the room not aiding in his comprehension of this moment. To him, Yukine almost looked ridiculous, like one of those stereotypical thugs that started off some low budget movie with a purse-snatching. "What are you wearing?"

"Look," Yukine sighed, his fear starting to ebb to anger. "I'm going to try to do something about Yato, and don't bother trying to talk me out of it, but I need you to make sure that she stays here tonight once she's figured out I left. She's sleeping in his bed right now but once she realizes she's going to want to run out and do something stupid-"

Kazuma broke through his words, "Like you're doing?"

"I'm not alone or anything… I asked _someone_ for a favor." Yukine shrugged off the sensibility Kazuma was trying to feed him. "And I can't sit around and wait for it to get worse. Something happened to Yato, something worse than just being missing, I know it, and if no one else is going to do something about it then I have to."

It was the second time this week that Kazuma felt like the pinnacle of cowardice in the face of people he'd grown to call his friends. Hiyori's words echoed in his head again as he stared at the blond boy. _Why does he deserve to be punished by living that life while all of us don't even bother to try to atone for our sins?_ "You're leaving now?"

"I think I might as well." _Or I won't leave at all._ But Yukine refused to let his courage falter. This was the choice he had made.

"Forward me the address."

"I'm not stupid," Yukine frowned.

"I'm not going to follow you, neither is Hiyori." Kazuma sighed, pushing at the bridge of his glasses. "Just… if we need to find you, I need to know a place to start looking. Just in case."

The calculations were all over Yukine's face, the pondering of the chance he would take. "I'll text it to you, but it's just where I'm meeting Ebisu, not… where I think I'll end up."

"That's fine. Please send it to me."

Yukine hesitated again, his hand clutching around the knob of the door. "But you won't tell Hiyori."

"I can't say she won't beat it out of me, but I'll try to keep the secret." Kazuma smiled wanly before sitting up completely in bed, throwing his legs over the edge. "Nothing I say will stop you, will it?"

Yukine barely let the question out of Kazuma's mouth, "No."

Kazuma stared at the floor, watching his feet flex as he tried to come to terms with the feelings of his own gutlessness. "You realize how heartbroken she'll be if it's both of you."

There wasn't an adequate way for Yukine to reply since he was sure she'd shatter if it was both of them gone for good, but this slow bleed wasn't any better as far as he was concerned. The reply was his back, turning swiftly and shutting the door before Kazuma could try to edge another word in. Yukine had to get out.

Kazuma listened to Yukine's receding footsteps in the apartment, then the unlocking, opening and closing of the apartment door. In the silence, Kazuma reached for his phone, navigating on the screen until his finger hovered over the contact. He thought of Yukine, a boy maybe barely fifteen now on his way to do whatever possible. His thumb tapped the screen and he brought the phone to his ear.

"It's late," Veena murmured after picking up on the fourth ring.

Kazuma wanted to whisper something sweet, something that embodied the way his heart leaped into his throat every time even just their hands met but he found the words like ice rolling off his tongue instead, "I need you to come over. We need to talk."


	16. Bloody Reunions

I'm so glad I finally got over the writer's block for this one. Enjoy! **Trigger warnings: sexual assault, violence**

* * *

Yato was lucky. Found out, bound to a pipe, bleeding, but still lucky. There had been a chance that finding out about the money would backfire, that Fujisaki and Nora wouldn't be stupid enough to take him directly to Father for punishment, but here he was tied to some piping in the compound that he hadn't been to since somewhere around elementary age. Since life is nothing but circular, Yato was back at the spot where it had all begun, where Sakura had died and he had become a murderer. He tried not to remember if this was the room, the very place that he'd watched her mind deteriorate.

That was the point though, wasn't it? The last little bit of mental torture before seeing Father was a must. The longer he spent there the clearer her image became. It was as if a film was playing in his head, starting from the first time they met, back when her brown eyes were so bright and wide, her hair back with strands decorated with beads. She was beautiful, not just for her looks but for the way that she exuded life and seemed to embody only its pleasures.

Maybe that's why he had been drawn to her, a childhood usually saturated in blood and viscera in want of warmth. His own mother was nothing more than a blackened face behind a veil, the memory that only consisted of pocked skin and death, so when Sakura had appeared it was as if he had been gifted some kind of normalcy. God knows all he wanted was some kind of normalcy. She had taught him there was some corner of his heart that was still capable of love, that not all of it was tarred by violence.

The irony that she was the first he'd ever killed hadn't escaped him, and as he tilted his head against the pipe, feeling the coolness of the water enclosed within, he watched that very moment play over in his mind. Father had made him wait outside but he'd watched the men come and go for hours, the sounds of her cries diminishing in strength as the hours went by. As the sun set, Father had sent him in, let him study her. The beads had been ripped from her hair just as the clothes that covered her body had been torn to shreds. There was no more shine to her eyes, suddenly now reminding him more of the dead, dry earth than sweet chocolate.

_Remember that anything you love can be taken from you. It's better to not love at all. It's safer._

To drill that home it was the same each day for a week: the waiting, the studying, the ruin glazing over her eyes. He remembered clearly the last day, the one his body had the nerve to produce tears for when she grasped his wrist and pulled him close and begged him for an end to it all. In his teens, in moments of anger, he wondered if it was fair to ask that of a child, but he knew the truth. He'd never been a child, he'd just burst forth from calamity, not born of woman but of chaos. The next day he brought the penknife. He plunged it into her neck. He told himself that the corner of his heart that loved was dead.

Now she was there, sitting across from him, her face blurring every so often with Hiyori. In a delirious moment, he wondered if he'd done the same to Hiyori if that was really what he was remembering when he saw the vicious red mess across his hands. Maybe he hadn't done all this to save her but instead was just what he'd always feared: the bringer of her demise. It was there, settled against that pipe, that he let the surety creep in that he would never see her again because it had to be the reality that one of them was dead or would be soon enough.

* * *

Yukine was correct, Ebisu did owe Yato, but the full extent of that was never something either of them had talked about. It was Ebisu's last memory, the one that often played back in his head when lying awake at night, feeling all the thoughts and moments from the day drifting away from him and into oblivion. He would never remember anything new, but he would always remember Yato.

Stacked in the pile of memories that weren't, Ebisu would have found many of Yukine. He hadn't been there for the actual discovery of the boy, but Yato had told him all the grotesque details later, most of them at least permanently cast in Kunimi's mind. Yato had not expected to become part of any of this, simply asked to complete a clean-up job, a mundane term for such vulgar work. And, most importantly, this was when Yato was still barely himself, still washing away the residue of Yaboku.

He had described how the stench of blood was apparently even without opening the trunk of the car that had been left in a vacant lot. There had been a million other smells, too, but blood was always the first one that came to Yato's mind. The trunk had been finicky, requiring fingers jammed in the mechanism to pop open completely as if it knew what it was hiding. As the trunk first opened, Yato was busy nursing a cut-up knuckle which was what saved him from throwing up on Yukine himself.

The strength of the smell quadrupled as the trunk opened and for all the misery and woe Yato had been used to, even this was overwhelming. The bile leaped from his throat and out of his mouth, staining the pavement just before the bumper. It seemed impossible then that Yato would have to do much _cleaning_ because as he looked at the lump that was supposed to be a boy in the trunk he was sure that the thing was already nothing more than decaying flesh. In reply to that thought, Yukine had given a gurgling breath.

That was when the anonymous call came to the EMS, the trunk left open to draw attention. Yato made easy claims that he had gotten there after the police and that the clean-up would have to wait for the hospital. He didn't visit for the first few days, but every night when he went to sleep he'd see the grooves in the trunk lid where Yukine had lost fingernails digging for some kind of hold. He tried to temper it with thoughts of the consequences of him trying to have someone, anyone, of Sakura and what that had done, but none of it seemed to matter.

The fifth day he'd gone to the hospital. Yukine would remember the Yaboku look, the cold-blooded killer that was there to murder him, but by the time Yato had walked through the door of the tiny hospital room, he'd already made his decision. He'd never let Yukine be locked in the dark again.

So it was Ebisu who had arranged for Yukine to be lost in the hospital system.

It was Ebisu who made the fake papers of guardianship.

It was Ebisu that arranged for all the payments for the hospitals and surgeries until Yukine began to look something like Yukine again.

All of this should have been enough to return the favor, in a way a life for a life. Besides the story of the bloody trunk, Ebisu never remembered any of these things. Yato had asked for a million tiny favors as well, most of them voided from Ebisu's memory and none kept in the vault that was his son's mind. Those little things didn't matter, didn't amount to the absurd debt that had to be paid at some point and that was why he'd let that little blond boy come to the safe house, let him offer his life for Yato's if that was even possible.

Ebisu didn't even bother with conversation, though Yukine wasn't exactly full of even an ounce of bravery he'd had over the phone, especially with Kunimi breathing down his neck in the tiny office. The only thing Yukine could do was watch as Ebisu made phone calls, his words sometimes not making sense as if code were appropriate in these kinds of transactions. Yukine had sat there sweating for an hour before Ebisu finally folded his hands, nodding at Kunimi.

"What we do tonight purges Waka's debt," Kunimi's words snapped at Yukine's ears, his tone cutting. "You'll tell Yato that when you see him."

"Of course," Yukine could only blink up at the giant man. "But… what are you going to do?"

"It's better you don't know," Ebisu stated matter-of-factly as he opened one of his side drawers. "You'll need this." He slid the gun across the table, taking care to aim the muzzle to the wall.

Yukine felt his stomach drop to his shoes, the bile rising up in his throat, "I can't."

There was no sigh, no quiver of fatherly love as he looked at the boy, just cold calculation of whether or not any of this would come to fruition. "Yato will not protect you."

After the trunk, Yukine had always told himself that the old part of him had died, that whatever was there before was gone. Suddenly, he was all too aware of the parallel, the way that Yato wanted that side of him dead, too. With slick palms, he stretched out his hand across the table. "Give me a knife. I'm better with a knife."

* * *

The room was silent except for the thunder of his own heart in his ears and the ticking of that stupid metronome on Father's desk. It was meant to unnerve, to leave you unsettled in the face of a man that had so many faces. It didn't help that Yato was probably edging closely to dehydration, those unsettling memories like a fever over his brain. Even looking at the metronome, the desk, he wondered if all of this was another memory. It didn't help when the chair swiveled the young face was there, a face that just barely looked like his.

Fujisaki pushed him against the desk, one hand coming to the base of his neck, grasping mostly into his scarf. "Our son has returned but he's been unfaithful."

Yato's eyes darted around, placing Nora by the door, her back pressed against the wall in an effort to look uninterested but he could see the way her fingers dug into her sleeves, nervously tearing at the fabric.

"Poor, misguided, Yaboku," the voice from chair purred. Even looking at Father straight on made him unsure of what he was seeing, a young man, an old man, alive, dead, maybe nothing more than a dirty memory Yato had been trying to keep at bay.

Fujisaki picked up where Father stopped, his voice cooing in Yato's ear, "You think the outside world is for you, the comforts of humanity, the touch of another. But you were made for ruin. Made to kill. I didn't really want to, but you're forcing our hands, Yaboku. We've brought that Iki girl here, and you'll learn Sakura's lesson all over again."

Yato swallowed the 'no' that wanted to groan from his lips, not wanting to give in to the very real possibility that it wasn't a lie. Instead, he clutched at the desk, one hand planting on the metronome and feeling it snap beneath his fingers. "I always hated that thing," he muttered as his fingers flexed into the metal.

"Maybe if you apologize-" Fujisaki's words were cut off by the scarf starting to unravel in his hands.

Yato planted a knee on the desk, propelling himself with whatever was left of his consciousness forward, the snapped pendulum tensed in his fist. Everything about this would have to be perfect, and Yato mused that it must be Fujisaki's fault for reminding him that he was always best at the kill. The metal should have snapped again, bent in his hand but instead, it slid through the thin skin of Father's neck, plunging into the artery. The smell of blood hit him before the color, Yato's mind still playing tricks on him, seeing horrible face after face cringing in terror.

He had just enough time to yank it out and stab again, giving it a decent tug in an effort to rip and tear before he felt the sharp metal slide into his own side, the hissing Fujisaki back at his ear. "You stupid bastard."

Yato waited for him to withdraw the blade before falling to his back on the desk, his feet kicking out and planting in Fujisaki's chest. His eyes darted to Nora but she was frozen, eyes wide with fear, but he didn't have another moment to waste trying to assess whether she was the next knife coming for him. Instead, he threw himself forward, falling on Fujisaki as he struggled to gain his breath, jamming the wrist with the knife to the floor. Yato sat on his waist, pinning the other arms as he tried to formulate other options as he felt the warmth draining from his side.

_I have to kill them. I have no choice. If Hiyori is here, they have to die and I have to do it, _but even with all the will in his mind behind the words, his body was starting to fail him. Yato tried to move his hand to Fujisaki's neck, hoping with the last of his strength he could crush his throat, but he felt Nora's hands plant against his shoulder, tossing him over to the side.

The tables turned as Fujisaki loomed over him, the knife hovering over Yato's face. "You stupid, _stupid_ bastard! You've ruined it! Ruined everything and I should just kill you now like the worm you are!" The saliva spat from his lips, the knife still poised as he screamed. But the popping interrupted his fury, confusion suddenly paling Fujisaki's face. "Nora, go see what that is."

Yato watched as she disappeared through the doorway, the open door giving way to a steadier sound, like a popcorn bag in the microwave. That gave way to a beautiful moment of delirium, the memories of being with her on the couch, the way she'd steal always eat the first half of the bowl… but _her_, he was forgetting about _her_. He snapped himself out the warmth, his hand shooting up to discharge the knife from Fujisaki's.

Fujisaki's hands clamped at his wrists, driving them to the floor. "Stop fighting! You're nothing, _nothing _without us!"

Yukine made sure to plunge the knife in deep, right at the base of the neck, even without knowing the irony in his motions, to punctuate Fujisaki's screams. His exclamations ended in a sick gurgling, his eyes wide with terror in Yato's face. Yukine withdrew the knife only to dig it in again and again until his hand was so slick with blood he could no longer keep his grip. His breath came out in short gasps even as he kicked Fujisaki's body aside, revealing Yato struggling with the reality of the moment.

_I have to be dead_, he repeated over and over in his mind. It wasn't until he reached out a shaky hand, clasping into the cloth of Yukine's pant leg, finding substance there, that he allowed his mind to start to believe it was real. "Yukine?"

At the sound of his name, he snapped back to life. "Can you get up?"

"Maybe." Yato rolled onto his side that wasn't streaming blood, trying to tell his legs they had to work. He got to his knees before the wave of gray started to hit him. "Hiyori's here. They have her."

"No, she's at home." Relief washed over Yato twice at the words and Yukine jamming himself under Yato's arm, bringing him back to unsteady feet. "You have to help if I'm going to get you out of here."

"Trying," Yato groaned, fighting back the fuzzy edges that were threatening to take his vision. "We have to go _now._"

"As if I didn't know that," Yukine hissed. The two stumbled forward into the dark hallway, the gunfire now more intermittent but the rooms and walkways void of people.

"Nora, did you see Nora?" Yato muttered out.

Yukine didn't bother with an answer other than to shush him, worried that no one around could easily turn to anyone that was left with enough noise being made. It was started to become more of a drag, Yato's head lolling from side to side with each move forward and the desperation was beginning to turn Yukine's courage threadbare. They had finally reached the outside of the building, crashing out a side door into what seemed to be a small alleyway, when Yato began to slip more than Yukine could bear.

It was then that he felt the cool metal touch his neck, the acrid smell of gunpowder freezing his breath. Yukine braced for a shot but when he felt nothing turned his head, coming face to face with cold, violet eyes. "Veena," he murmured.

"Is he alive?" It wasn't the hopeful way a friend should ask, instead a calculation there that chilled Yukine more than her eyes just had.

"Barely," Yukine breathed.

Veena paused only long enough to look over the wiry boy bathed in blood. "Let's go." She moved past him, hoisting Yato over her shoulder and starting back down the alleyway into the darkness.


	17. Starting Over

Long update! I really, really like this story, but I'm unsure of how long I should drag it out. Reviews in reference to the continuance past Yato & Hiyori's physical reunion would be appreciated. **Trigger warning: sexual assault references**

* * *

It was Kazuma's hand that snatched her from sleep. "Hiyori, get up. Yukine's on the phone."

"He's here," she murmured as her hand clutched the empty bedside, the absence of his body jolting her the rest of the way conscious. Hiyori turned to Kazuma, grabbing the phone from his hand and pressing it to her ear. "Where the hell are you?" It was desperation with a healthy hint of scolding and she wondered if she could ground him.

"Listen," the charge in his voice was back, definitely not a 14 year old but a man on the other end of the phone. "Get your dad to the hospital. Tell him this will have to be quiet, hidden, to make whatever arrangements he needs for that. Maybe security, too, if that's a thing. We'll meet you there."

"What?" The words hit her ears like another language.

"You'll see. Just get there, now. Not the front entrance, the loading doors in the back. I don't know how much time we have." With that, the conversation went dead in her hand.

She stared at the blank screen for a second before inputting her father's work phone, knowing that it was never on silent, never far away from him. It rang only twice before her father's bleary voice answered, "Doctor Iki."

"Daddy," Hiyori was suddenly a child again as if she had woken from a bad dream in bed. "I need you to get to the hospital. I need you to meet me there."

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" There was the distinctive sound of shuffling, the tearing away of sheets.

"Not me." _Yato, it has to be Yato, _but she couldn't say it out loud because the fear still lingered that it wasn't true, that he was already a ghost. "Just, please, only you and people you trust."

"Hiyori, you're not making sense." But the sound of movement still continued in the background and she could even hear her mother's voice talking just out of reach.

"Just trust me, please," Hiyori's voice cracked as the tears started to burn her eyes.

"Alright, we'll meet you there."

* * *

Kazuma drove hectically and without consideration for Hiyori's stomach that already felt tossed. Or maybe that was simply her heart squashing downward, threatening to break apart with the reality of the situation. Yukine had said he didn't know how much time they had, so was that Yato's time? Was she just going to see him in time to have him fade away? Her nails dug into the skin of her thighs as she tried not to scream, not to dissolve into hysterics that wouldn't help anyone. She needed to stay strong, to maintain some kind of sanity.

She was out of the car almost the instant that it came to a complete stop, sprinting towards the front gates even though her breathing felt shallow and restricted. It wasn't just her father but her mother standing in the lobby, both looking ready for action as if there had been no sleeping to begin with. She wondered if that was just a talent that parents developed, instantly ready for the needs of their child. "Dad, Mom…" Her calls for them blended together just as they did, both parents taking her in their arms.

"Hiyori, tell me you're alright," her mother murmured.

"I am," she took only a second to breathe in Sayuri's scent, that placating lavender that could almost calm at a moment like this. "But we don't have time for anything else. We need to get to the loading door. Daddy, you may need a nurse or two. I don't know for sure."

Takamasa slipped his arms away from his wife and daughter, his lips firmly set. "Hiyori, who-"

"You'll see," she didn't like the begging quality in her voice. "Please, we have to go, it has to be secret."

He sighed in reply, turning to the receptionist at the desk. "Have Miyu and Saki paged to the loading doors, please." Takamasa only needed to repeat himself one more time at the strangeness of the request before moving back to Sayuri and Hiyori. "Let's go then."

Hiyori let Takamasa lead, driving her and Sayuri through the hallways and down a set of stairs. Saki, a squat, middle aged nurse with short black hair met them on the way, exchanging soft words with Takamasa as they continued. When the door was in sight, Hiyori could not stop herself from running ahead, being far from gentle with the doors as her hands slammed them apart. It was Yukine she saw first, his eyes wide with mostly white as he seemed to play the evening on repeat in his head.

His eyes softened the instant they met hers, the breath suddenly coming back to him, "Hiyori!"

"Are you hurt?" Her voice was sharp as she grasped his shoulders, trying to find the source of the blood that was sprayed across his face and shirt.

Yukine shook his head, "It's Yato."

Before Hiyori could reposition, let go of Yukine to get a better look, Veena appeared from the side of the door. "Kinuha, Kuraha, carry him inside."

"Veena?" Hiyori barely had time to utter her name before the next came to her lips. "Yato…" His head was collapsed against his chest, any skin visible doughy and white. The deep saturation of red had spread from his side down his pant leg and she realized he wasn't walking but being dragged between the man and woman, Kuraha and Kinuha.

"Oh, Christ," Takamasa muttered as Yato was dragged closer. "Saki, get a room prepped and get surgery on the phone just in case." He only wasted one glance at his daughter before disappearing back into the hospital, following the couple dragging Yato through.

Sayuri didn't bother to follow her husband, instead planting a firm hand on her daughter's shoulder as she stared between Yukine and Veena. "What's happening here?"

"Mom, please," Hiyori tried to pull off Sayuri's hand but it was useless.

Sayuri tightened her grip, taking her daughter out of Yukine's arms. "No, Yato's been missing for a month and now these two carry him in almost dead-"

"Hiyori didn't tell you her little boyfriend is a murderer?" Veena shot, a cool smile gracing her lips.

"What?" Sayuri focused on Hiyori who refused to even look her way, eyes burning towards Veena.

"Kazuma told you what _he_ did?" Hiyori spat back.

"He told me what _Yato_ did," Veena corrected.

"You're ridiculous," Hiyori laughed incredulously. "Don't you see it? Yato's never done anything unless he's been asked to. Unless someone else wished it."

Veena took a step towards Hiyori, her fists clenched at her side. "And that justifies murdering innocent people?"

"Innocent?" Hiyori didn't shrink back, regardless of both Yukine's and her mother's hands on her, taking a step to meet Veena in kind. "They were going to kill you and Kazuma made the decision that you mattered more. Yato did what _Kazuma_ wanted. If you want to blame someone, it's him."

"She's right," Kazuma walked up behind Veena, watching as she turned away from the sight of him. "And might I suggest we move this conversation inside and shut the door. I could hear you from the parking lot." The voice of reason hit them all, the five of them moving from the alleyway into the supply room. Kazuma moved past them to close the door back to the hallway, leaning against it. "Veena-"

"Don't you dare even talk to me," she spat.

"Then leave," Kazuma tried to reply cooly but Hiyori watched as his throat bobbed through a hard swallow. "I told you, I did it because I love-"

She cut him off with a glare, "He murdered my people, Kazuma, and you were a part of that."

"Yato's killed people," Sayuri muttered as if she didn't have the strength to make it a question.

"Mom…" Hiyori gently put grasped at Sayuri's arms, trying to pull her focus away from the horror that was probably playing in her head. "That's not Yato, it's part of his old life, part of the life he was trying to get away from."

"And all that's done," Yukine interjected with not only his voice but his person, coming almost between mother and daughter. "I swear, it's done."

"Really?" Hiyori tried not to feel her chest tighten up, to breathe through the pain of the hope.

"I promise," Yukine murmured, his hand coming softly to her shoulder.

It was almost as if Sayuri's hand were now checking for Hiyori's wounds, wandering over the parts of her she could touch. "Has he hurt you?"

"No, Mom, never," Hiyori grabbed at her mother's hands, calming them. "I told you, that's not Yato. He's different."

Veena scoffed, "The blood on his hands doesn't just wash away."

"And why not?" Hiyori barked, her face turning red with the scream that had been building since the car. "What does it take for him to be forgiven? Stop and think, really think, Veena. The Yato you know, not the Yaboku that signed a contract with Kazuma, when has he done _anything_ for himself? He's never done one thing that wasn't for someone else, not the whole time I've known him."

"And that absolves him?" Veena hissed through clenched teeth.

"It does!" Hiyori finally let her words bellow. "And if you still think otherwise, even after Kazuma admitted to it, then maybe it's you who really needs to change. Something tells me your hands aren't entirely clean either." Veena gritted her teeth before letting out a frustrated cry, turning and banging out of the loading door. Kazuma started but stopped, his hand just catching the door on its turn back on the hinge. Hiyori moved towards him and pushed him forward, "Go after her."

"Why should I?" He whispered bitterly.

"Just go, Kazuma." She bumped him again, this time thankful that his feet moved forward, pulling the door shut behind him. Hiyori turned slowly, her back pressing into the cold metal of the door. "Yukine…"

"Yeah, Hiyori?" The ragged exhaustion of the night was catching up with him and he found himself mimicking her, leaning into the closest wall.

"Tell me everything you did tonight," it was soft, quiet, but a firm order.

His eyes darted toward Sayuri, "Maybe later, maybe we should check on Yato…"

Hiyori shook her head firmly. "If Dad can save him… I'm sure it'll take some time. I need to know, we all need to know now."

Yukine let his knees buckle, sending him to the floor with a hard thud. He ran both hands through his hair, feeling the tug on each follicle before repeating the action as if to massage the information out. After countless unsteady breaths, he gave in, spilling each detail that was so vividly etched into his memory.

* * *

_It's the brown hair,_ he thought and it felt delirious, but who could blame him after what he'd been through. Yato wasn't even technically sure what that was, just that he was staring at an unfamiliar ceiling from a futon. It was too traditional looking for Hiyori's house or the apartment, and he knew every ceiling at Kofuku's like the back of his hand. But he was sure that the woman sitting there was Sakura, definitely, then maybe Hiyori, but finally he blinked her into the right existence and his whole body tensed. "Sayuri?"

"You're awake." She put down her book and crawled a few steps closer, enough that if he had the audacity he could reach out and touch her. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," he murmured. He did reach out a hand but it wasn't for her, instead running along the edge of the bandage at his side, feeling the old thump of pain as he breathed in too deeply.

"Can I get you something?"

The concern in her voice made it worse, the aching pain in his chest meeting the one below his ribs. "I'm sure you've done enough already. Where am I?"

Sayuri leaned back, her hands resting on the matted floor to keep her up. "This was my mother's house. We kept it after she passed away as a vacation house for the vacations we never take."

Yato couldn't help but snort a little laugh before the ache set in again. "Is she… is she here?"

"No," Sayuri shook her head.

"Oh," it was all he could do to stop it from becoming a wail. His hand fell limply to the sheet until his fingers dug into the futon. "I guess that's better. You… You know by now, right? What I am? And she's… Hiyori, all of you, you're better than that and I'm just-"

Sayuri cut him off with a sigh, "She's at school. Finals, right before graduation, not exactly something you can miss even in these circumstances." She watched the way his eyes filled to the brim with tears even with her explanation. It had begun when Yukine had told the story, but Sayuri was slowly filling in the blanks about Yato, seeing that desperate want clouded by the intense dislike for himself. "She'll be here this weekend to see you. Though she said to have you call her as soon as you were awake."

"You should tell her to stay away from me," he murmured as the tears finally broke from his lids.

"Because you're a murderer?" The sentence seemed to roll right off her tongue as if polite conversation but it struck Yato right in the gut, stealing the air from his lips. "From what Hiyori says, and Yukine as well, that was the old you." Sayuri took one of the cooling clothes from his bedside and dabbed at Yato's face, watching as his surprised eyes came back to her.

Yato hesitated but finally grabbed her hand, stopping the soothing motion of her cleaning away his tears. "There's always a chance it's never over."

"That's why we decided the three of you would stay here," Sayuri smiled. "It's far enough away from the city, too far from the characters you used to roam with."

His throat bobbed through a painful swallow, "What if it's not them? What if it's me? What if that's all I'm good for?"

Sayuri studied him for a moment as she took her hand away from his before turning her attention to rewetting and wringing out the cloth. "Yato," she sighed the exasperated breath of a mother with a lying child, "Do you really think that? You think you can tell me after the months of being with my daughter that at the root of it all you're just a killer? I believe her when she says you've never hurt her."

"Of course not," the words hissed from his teeth. Yato rolled his head to the side, half an attempt to keep her from caressing him again but also to hide the tears that wouldn't listen to reason. "But…" He didn't know how to put into words the way it felt to be so truly disconnected, so untethered. He had thought that being without his father, not just out of his power but without him in the same world, meant that he would actually disappear and a part of him might have. That murderer, that boy covered in layers of blood, could have very well just died in that room. The person laying here now, this Yato, could be something entirely different and that in its own right scared him shitless.

Sayuri wiped his cheek one more time for good measure, getting the leftover tears. "You can think about it, but in the meantime, Yukine made me promise I'd get him. He was hovering in here-"

"Can I come in already?" Yukine's voice snapped through the paper of the shoji.

Yato fell into a half confused smirk as he watched Sayuri roll her eyes. "Hovering," she repeated.

The shoji barely stayed on its hinges as Yukine slid the door open. "And what the hell do you mean '_You should tell her to stay away from me'_?"

"You shouldn't eavesdrop!" Yato spat out as lively as he could, starting to push himself up on his elbows.

"You're an idiot," Yukine hissed. Sayuri yanked him just as he got close enough to the futon, trying to keep him from a scuffle. "Hiyori's the best thing that ever happened to you and if she wants to follow your sorry ass after this you should be kissing the ground she walks on!"

"I'm trying to protect her," he barked back. The position was making his side hurt so he attempted to get all the way up to sitting, faltering only for a moment.

"For two boys who aren't actually brothers you sure fight like them," Sayuri muttered as she let go of Yukine to help Yato the rest of the way up.

"Don't call his asshole my brother!" Yukine took another deep breath as if to ready himself for another yell before blowing the air through his lips. "He's more like a dad anyway. He doesn't understand how the world works, he's creepily sweaty all the time, and he smells like-"

"A dad?" Yato took a second to grin, reaching a hand out and grabbing at Yukine's sleeve.

"That's the part you heard out of all of that?" Yukine frowned but let himself be pulled, releasing a huff of air as Yato tried his best to get his arms around the boy.

"You OK?" Yato whispered.

"Physically, yeah, but the other shit…" Yukine let a shudder of breath escape his lips, trying to push back the burning in his eyes. "Yato, you really are an idiot."

"I know," he murmured with a pat to Yukine's back. "Thanks for saving me."

"Call it even," Yukine muttered with a sniffle, his free hand coming up to wipe away the tears as if no one else could see. "But I…" There was a pause only filled with the sound of their breaths. Yukine pulled away from Yato, sitting back on his heels. "Sayuri, could I… would you mind?"

Sayuri had already started gathering her things halfway through the sentence, giving a short little nod in reply. As she stood, she let her hand drift across his shoulders, finishing with a squeeze before exiting the room, sliding the door shut behind her.

"If it's about Fujisaki…" Yato reached out for him again but Yukine turned his body, making sure to keep himself out of reach.

"No, Sayuri knows about that, her and Hiyori." Yukine focused on the floor as he dug a finger into the mat, trying to focus on the texture as if it would allow him to forget what he was about to say. "That… what happened that night made me remember things. Things before the trunk."

"Oh," it was a small, fearful warble from Yato's mouth.

"I thought I'd never know that stuff again but it's in my head, Yato." The air seemed to choke from his mouth and he turned both hands into fists, rubbing them into the floor. "The blood, all the blood, the way it felt warm and syrupy on my hands and-"

Regardless of the shot of pain Yato got to kneeling, his hands coming to Yukine's shoulders. "You're safe, Yukine. I promised you that and I'll promise you again right now. He's not coming back for you. Not now, not ever."

Yukine's fist moved to clench at Yato's hand on his shoulder, his nails digging uncomfortably into the skin. "I killed someone."

"You had to, Fujisaki would have-"

"No," Yukine groaned. "Before the trunk, I killed someone."

Yato's eyebrows furrowed, the words nothing more than insanity in his ears. How could a boy, thirteen, maybe fourteen, do that? This gentle little boy that wouldn't admit it for a second but cried at the insipid romance movies that Hiyori "forced" him to watch. _But how did I do that then? What's so different about the two of us?_ Afterall, Yukine had known were to sink that knife. "Is that what you remember?"

Yukine nodded as he forced a hand through his hair. "It was one of my Dad's clients."

Yato wanted to stop him for both of their sakes since, after the incident with the trunk, he'd done some digging, had found out what kind of clients those were and what kind of man Yukine's father was. All this time he'd tried not to piece the puzzle back together, but Yukine was doing it all on his own and it terrified him. "Yukine…"

"Dad had a lot of girls that he sold out," Yukine's voice cracked as the tears left small dark circles on his pant legs. "But this client, he didn't like _them_. He liked… boys and I was... I was the only _thing_ Dad had and..." To Yato's surprise, it wasn't a whimper or a sick sigh but a raw, raging groan. "I couldn't let him get away with that. I couldn't."

"You had to," Yato murmured.

"It's not the same thing," Yukine lips trembled, mumbling the words. "I killed someone. I've killed more than just one someone and the blood…"

"Yukine, snap out of it." Yato shook Yukine's shoulders, watching as the younger boy's eyes went wide, his breath hitching. "Knowing your past, really looking at it, it can kill you, destroy you, consume you. You can't let it. You're stronger than that."

"I'm not," he wailed.

"Of course you are," Yato shot back. "You saved me, and not just some half-assed attempt. It was you, all you in that room. We both know I'd be dead if you hadn't come in when you did."

Yukine took a shaking breath, "But I'm-"

"Don't, don't you dare," Yato cut him off with another shake. "You're my kid, OK? That's all you are, no matter what. You're my amazing little brat of a kid and you're perfect."

There were no longer words that Yukine could use, all of it dissolving into sobs. Yato took the opportunity to wrap his arms around him, feeling only a little initial resistance until Yukine gave in. It only took a few minutes of the sobbing before Sayuri came in, quiet and watchful as Yato cradled the blond boy to his chest. It took time, Sayuri and Yato remaining motionless as Yukine trembled through the tears. As they began to die down, so did Yukine's alertness. "Lay down," Yato murmured, letting go and prodding Yukine towards the futon he'd vacated.

"I bet it's all sweaty," he muttered but nonetheless followed directions, sprawling out in the space that Yato had just occupied.

Yato flicked his ear, getting a slap on the hand as his reward. "Just don't drool on my pillow."

"Only you drool." Yukine's eyes were mostly shut now, barely fighting the sleep that was finally coming to him.

"I don't think he's slept since the hospital." Sayuri's voice surprised Yato since he had almost forgotten she was even there, so involved with what he was going to do to patch up Yukine's obviously shattered self.

"Can you blame him?" Yato did what he would only dare to do in Yukine's exhausted state and began to stroke the younger boy's hair. "It's a lot for a kid his age."

"Speaking from experience." Sayuri knelt down close to him, watching as his hand continued to brush away the blond hair. "He's lucky to have you."

Yato sucked his teeth, "Yeah, about as lucky as a hole in the head. I put him in danger, I brought all this old stuff to the surface and now…"

"Now you'll both have the time and space to heal." Sayuri put a soft hand on his shoulder, momentarily stopping Yato's soothing hand. "Just you, him, and Hiyori."

An unsure breath trembled across his lips. "Hiyori shouldn't… she can't…"

Sayuri put up her hands in defeat comically before letting them fall to her lap. "If you haven't learned by now that Hiyori does as she wants then maybe I was wrong about you." One of her hands fell to her side, reaching into her pocket and fishing out her phone before holding it out to him. "Here, she's probably home from school by now."

His eyes trailed over the phone as if it were alien to him, his hand only reaching out hesitantly before closing around it.

"If you'd like I'll walk you out the storm shutters there that lead out to the veranda." Sayuri motioned across the room to the far wall.

"Stay with him," Yato murmured before shakily getting to his feet. It hurt, not just the twinge in his side but the ache of every muscle recovering from the stiffness of the immobility. It was slow, almost a shuffle as he dragged himself over to the shutter, sliding it slowly opened and then closed behind him. The engawa was surprisingly wide, enough to lounge on if he had some cushions and the air was still brisk, making his skin erupt in goosebumps at the first breeze. He sat at the edge, dangling his feet over the pebbled walk below before staring at the phone in his hand.

If he just tapped on her number he wouldn't have time to overthink it, and there wasn't a Yukine around to send that icebreaker first text again so he forced himself to press his thumb into the screen. It felt like there was barely even one ring before her phone was erupting from the phone, "Mom? It's been all day and I haven't heard a thing! Did something happen?"

He could hear the frustration, the hint of anger, but it didn't matter. It'd been an entire month since he'd heard that voice and the instant it hit him, regardless of the tone, he felt whole again. All of the terror, insecurity, horror was brushed away. He had no control over his tongue and the words just tumbled out, "I love you."

All he got in return was a sharp intake of breath, a half-caught sob. She had tried to angle the phone away, hide the sound, but he could hear her unsteady sigh. "This isn't some dead-bed thing, right? You're OK?"

"I'll be fine when I can touch you again," he murmured.

"Yato…" she sighed sweetly, ending with a little hiccup of a sob.

"I'm sorry, so sorry, Hiyori," now he was choking, too, the tears starting down his cheeks.

"You should be," she shot back, "but you can make up for that later." Hiyori cleared her throat and the phone shuffled against his ear again as she cleared her face. "How's Yukine?"

Yato sighed, "Getting there. Maybe. I wish I could just pick the memories out of his mind."

"That's not how it works," Hiyori murmured before sighing again. "Yato, tell me not to leave right now and come there."

He couldn't stop a weak laugh from escaping his mouth. "Don't do that. You have to graduate, no excuses, not even for me." That little selfish part of him wriggled to life, begging him to take it back, to demand her to come and be with him. He turned a deaf ear to it and smiled softly. "You'll be here this weekend. We'll… we'll figure it out then."

There was a huff of air, not a sigh but a quick breath as if she were cutting off the first thing she wanted to say in reply. "Figure what out?"

Her tone made him feel tossed on a sea and all he could do was clutch the wood he was sitting on, nails biting into the grain. "Just… you still have some deciding to do, don't you? School or work…" _And me. You have to decide that I'm… _There were a million negative adjectives to list here, the feelings from Sayuri's conversation with him suddenly flooding back. A small piece of him had to admit it, though, that there was this deep, uncontrollable want for it to all be over, to put it all aside and pretend like that old life never existed.

But while Yukine may have promised it was over, Yato knew better: Nora was alive. The question now was how deadly could she be without someone to wield her?

* * *

Sayuri had gone a day or two later. Yato found that he really had no solid concept of time since all of his was split between exercise and thinking. The physical activity was forced on him by Yukine, his only other company in the house and the resident mother hen since the real mother had gone. His greatest hope was to languish in bed and wait for Hiyori, but Yukine trounced that every chance he got. Not that Yukine seemed to be in the best mood either, quieter and slower to snap back at Yato in his usual teenage way.

Yukine's only real option was to walk Yato around town, figuring out the layout of what could be their new home. It was a seaside town, with the beach just a moderate walk from the house. It was mostly quiet now, too, since March wasn't exactly conducive to sunbathing and swimming. Probably due to the season, the town itself seemed half dead, with only a few people to nod at along the way, most examining the boys with a mixture of intrigue and suspicion, though those looks were nothing new to them.

"I think this is the school," Yukine nodded to a long, squat building that was fenced in by a high cement wall. "That or a prison."

"Maybe a little bit of both," Yato got half of a laugh out of both of them. He paused, taking a deep breath as his eyes searched the length of the building. "I want to sign you up."

"For prison?" Yukine jested weakly, punctuating it with a sigh rather than a laugh. "Why?"

"Because you're smart," Yato grasped at his shoulder and Yukine let him. "And you definitely need the socialization since all you'll have is me."

"And Hiyori," Yukine corrected quickly, narrowing his eyes at Yato.

"And Hiyori," Yato echoed unsteadily. "And Sayuri suggested-" He cleared his throat to try to knock out the sensation that it was closing on him while giving Yukine's shoulder a squeeze. "There's a doctor in town, apparently an _old family friend_ and I think you should talk to him."

"Like a shrink?" Yato was surprised by Yukine's tone, not spitting acid but just tired.

"Yeah, a therapist." He took his hand back and shrugged, letting a long breath escape his nose. "Because I have to do better for you, Yukine."

"What's me going to a therapist have to do with you?" He frowned, taking the few extra steps to catch up with Yato as he suddenly started the walk again, leaving the school behind him.

"Because I meant it when I said you were my kid," Yato couldn't stop himself from snapping back desperately. "The shit you've been through and that I've put you through, it's not fair and I've just been letting it go because life was complicated." He threw up his hands in the face of Yukine's silence, the lack of a rebuttal just making him feel worse. "But it's not going to be like that anymore. I'm going to take care of you like I should have from the beginning."

Yukine sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes focused on the ground as Yato waited impatiently for the '_fuck off'_ that he was accustomed to. The time was ticking and Yato felt as if he were about to burst with another stream of self-deprecating comments when Yukine finally muttered, "I'm not going to call you dad."

Yato let out a trembling laugh, "No, of course not."

"And the therapist… it's safe to talk about _everything_?" Yato watched Yukine try to shrug off the thought of that everything, the dirty mess that congregated in his mind.

"Sayuri vouched for him, so yes." Feeling the shame wash over him, Yato pushed himself a little quicker, just having Yukine in his periphery. "You just, you need it, OK? I'm not going to let you turn out like-"

Yato forced himself to stop, leaving the thought in the air for Yukine to finish. "Like you?"

He blamed the nausea on the activity, too much too fast but he kept pushing himself forward. _He's right, isn't he? You don't want him to be pent-up, constantly worried about the next shit that's coming for him. He should be safe. He should be loved. _

Yukine interrupted his thoughts by grabbing the back of his shirt, forcing him to a halt. "I'll go if you go."

Yato turned quickly on his heels, his eyebrows raising skeptically. "What?"

"Don't '_what'_ me. I'll go if you go." There wasn't an ounce of meekness in his voice, that little mother hen back to bite Yato in the ass. "Deal?"

_No!_ His gut was trying to react for him, to almost slap Yukine's hand away as if that broke the statement. "Look, Yukine-"

"It's a yes or no, not an explanation or talking your way out of it," Yukine tugged again to punctuate his point. "Yes or no?"

Yato sighed, throwing up his hands in defeat. "Fine, yes."

"Good." Yukine released him and started the walk again, this time trailing a little in front. "Because you have to get over this bullshit with Hiyori."

"Ugh, relationship advice from the teenager," Yato muttered.

Yukine moved past the statement with a roll of his eyes. "It _is_ bullshit, Yato. You're definitely not perfect so I get the hesitation but every time we talk about Hiyori now it's like she's the past, not like she should be here in a day."

The fact that it was only a day away, seeing her, touching her, telling her how utterly terrified he was of the life he could have now if he was brave enough twisted up his gut. "I know."

"I swear if you break up with her-" He growled protectively.

"I'm not," Yato groaned. "I don't… I'm just scared. I'm fucking terrified."

"She loves you, Yato, it's not like she-"

"It's not that!" He spun on his heels and even with the knowledge that he was in the street he couldn't stop his voice from rising. "It's not just her, it's you, it's everything. I was one thing, Yukine. Chaos. That's it. I was death and destruction and calamity but now I'm what? Responsible for people's happiness. That petrifies me because it's easier to ruin things than make them right."

"Yato…" Yukine blinked, his eyes went wide as he processed Yato yelling and then slowly the words. "That's not all you were."

"It _is_," he urged back. "And what if I end up being terrible at happiness?"

Yukine couldn't stop himself from laughing back in the older boy's face, causing a distinctive frown of annoyance to crinkle his face. "You've gotten it right for the past year at least."

"What?" The frown intensified, Yato's eyes searching Yukine's face.

"Up until the stuff with your dad, we were all happy," Yukine shrugged. "You, me, Hiyori, maybe even Kazuma and Kofuku and Daikoku - we were all separate before you but we're a family now. You did that. And that was before, even when you still had the death and destruction down pat. Maybe it's just… it'll be slow, and you'll make mistakes like running off like an idiot to kill your dad but it'll happen. Each day you'll become less of that mess and more of that _Patron Saint of Odd Jobs_."

"God, I told you," he muttered through processing the amazement at the reality of it.

"Maybe I'll upgrade to God if you ever get a real job," Yukine laughed.

Yato's eyes darted around, seeing a couple faces at windows, one of two heads popping around corners in yards and shrugged. "Fine. Let's go home." They'd put on quite a show in the street and Yato was sure that half the neighbor would at least know of them by now. _What a fine introduction._


	18. Reunited

The lovebirds are back together, so be ready for some **sexual content**. Somehow I still have ideas beyond this but we'll see how long I can keep it up.

* * *

Hiyori had been merciful and texted a clear ETA so he didn't spend his time panicking as he roamed the house. Instead, he panicked in a stationary position from the front door for the entirety of the hour before she was supposed to arrive. Yukine had been surprisingly hands-off, leaving Yato to be as nervous as he saw fit, only bothering him to change his clothes into something other than sweats and a t-shirt. He was currently picking at the gray band collared shirt Yukine had put him in before hugging the blanket he'd wrapped around his shoulders a little closer against the cool of the afternoon. It honestly hadn't felt this cold in the city, in the compound, but the air off the ocean was filled with chill and brine.

As his feet were stationary, his mind ran. It couldn't stay on topic, flitting from thoughts of her bare skin and how much he wanted to undress her on sight to the thought that she could never forgive him and that there would be something in her eyes today that would say it was over. The undulation between despair and desire kept him decidedly uncomfortable, not to mention the still healing ache in his side. He was writing and rewriting questions in his mind, not just the decisions he'd alluded to on the phone but also a million others.

There was no Father, no Fujisaki, and Nora couldn't possibly even be a threat anymore without someone to wield her, control her. Meaning that they could and should take it slow, just like they had at the beginning where kissing had taken them six months to reach because they thought they had the time. It was simple enough to just enjoy being a little more than teenagers in love. Young adults that would be living together in a house all their own with a kid to take care of and people possibly still breathing down their necks. Not to mention the trauma, right?

Worst yet, he couldn't stop himself from thinking about the life that maybe he was allowed to have now. Yato could actually go to school since fake papers weren't outside of his abilities and Hiyori had been right, it wasn't exactly out of his intellectual grasp either. He could marry her, especially if she could actually stomach this living together arrangement. And while Yukine was absolutely enough of a handful and he had already dealt with the struggle of getting his demand for her attention under control, they could have that kid she joked about. All of those things felt almost tangible, just waiting for her to be there so he could grab them along with her.

But it all hinged on one thing: did he even deserve to be back with her? Was his penance just the almost dying or was it never going to be enough? His brain was cycling through the questions when he saw a car pull up, parking curbside to the house. He tried not to jolt, knowing that it could be anyone, but when he saw the first glimpse of the crown of her head coming out of the car he was on his feet, rushing down the walk as the blanket billowed off his shoulders.

Hiyori's smile glowed as her eyes fell upon him until she scanned down his body, her eyes instantly starting to roll. "Where are your shoes?"

That was the least important thought as he met her at the nose of the car, one arm circling her waist while the other came across her shoulder to plunge into her hair. _Slow, slow, slow,_ he ordered himself but his heart laughed back as he pressed his lips desperately to hers. She was far from resisting him, her body melting against his as her hands slid to grasp at the back of his shirt. Stopping was what he was slow to do, his hands only losing their pressure when she moved hers to his chest, pressing there to signal for air.

"Your shoes," she repeated. "And a coat, Yato, really."

"I'm fine," he murmured with eyes still shut, already leaning back into her.

Hiyori gave him another little shove, shaking her head as his eyes seemed to resistantly flutter open, his hands relaxing just enough for her to get a step between them. "Inside the house, please."

"Hiyori," Yato started an exasperated whine.

"Hiyori!" Yukine's voice thankfully cut off Yato's and she let go of him, pushing past him on the walk.

Yato laughed softly to himself as Hiyori rushed to throw her arms around Yukine, almost tossing him completely off balance. "Yukine! How are you?" She seemed to be examining him again as if expecting cuts and bruises, her hands finishing on the sides of his face to look clearly into his eyes.

"Cut it out," Yukine batted her hands away. "Fine, just a little bored with only Yato around."

"Well, I'm home now," she punctuated the sentence with a pleased sigh that made Yato's heart flutter. "And Daikoku and Kofuku are going to visit next week."

"Really?" Yukine shot a nervous look at Yato. "Is that OK?"

Yato shrugged, "More the merrier out here."

Yukine seemed even more unnerved by the coolness in his answer. "But, aren't we…?"

"No one follows Daikoku; he's better than that," Yato smirked. "But don't tell him I said that."

Hiyori closed a fist into Yato's shirt, starting to drag him back towards the house. "And maybe you won't have to deal with Yato much longer since he insists on being out here without a jacket or shoes."

"I have no control over him," Yukine chimed as he added his hands to Yato's back, pushing him as Hiyori pulled.

"No one does," Hiyori shrugged, sending an indecipherable look back his way.

"Hey, you two aren't allowed to gang up," Yato muttered as they made their way into the entryway.

Hiyori leaned down, taking off her shoes but Yukine paused, looking between the two of them. "I'm going to take a walk."

Yato tried to put a hand on his shoulder but Yukine slipped out of it. "Yukine-"

"Don't worry, it's fine." Yukine grabbed his coat and slipped it on.

Hiyori grasped him before he could get away, pulling Yukine in tightly for another hug. "Be back before dinner, OK?"

"Momming," Yukine huffed before starting out the door, feeling her resist letting go of his sleeve until he looked back over his shoulder. "Sure, OK, dinner."

Yato watched as Yukine slid the door closed behind him, bringing a frown back to Hiyori. "I don't like him going out alone."

Hiyori laughed softly and shrugged, "But he hates the romance stuff." She grabbed at his shirt again and pulled him further into the house, starting the walk down the hallway towards the bedrooms.

"Hiyori," he started weakly but his voice went nowhere as his mind drifted back to the desire that had hit him earlier.

"The main bedroom?" Her hand relaxed, relying on his own feet to move him forward.

"Last on the right," Yato breathed. Hiyori disappeared into the bedroom and Yato found himself slowing as he turned the corner, forcing himself to stand in the door. "We should talk, Hiyori."

"We will." She beckoned him forward and when he came into arm's length her fingers began on the buttons of his shirt. "But this first." She took a deep breath before pausing on the next button. "Please."

The air felt thin in his lungs and he struggled to breathe through how that plea turned his heart into a drum. "Is that really what you want?"

"Yes." Her fingers continued and finished the buttons, her hands gliding across his chest to part his shirt and push it up and over his shoulders. As it fell, her hands came slowly back to his side, one tentatively touching the bandage above his hip. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't…" She sighed, "It's stupid, it's like I almost forgot that you, you're hurt-"

"That doesn't matter," he murmured as he lifted her hand off the bandage, intertwining his fingers with hers. "Just… take it easy on me, OK?" But he wasn't necessarily sure he could take it easy on himself, his hands instantly falling to the hem of her dress, gathering the fabric until he was able to pull it up and over her head. He tossed the dress aside and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in so he could feel the warmth of her skin. "I missed you," came as a murmured breath against her neck as he pressed his lips there.

"You just missed this," Hiyori let herself laugh softly until she felt his fingers tighten into her skin.

His face was no longer hidden, suddenly staring her down with those icy blue eyes. "I didn't even think you'd let me touch you again and, honestly, I don't think I deserve it."

Hiyori brought her hands to his face, ready to pull his lips down to meet hers. "It's what I deserve, isn't it? Some happiness?" She caught his sigh in reply with her lips, feeling that same frantic force behind his kiss. In surprising contrast, his touch was soft and slow, starting at her hips and trailing upwards, one hand focused on fanning up her back while the other groped at the cup of her bra. His one hand was on the clasp of her bra when she broke the kiss. "Hold that thought."

"Hiyori…" Yato caught himself about to whimper as she broke free of him, moving back towards the door.

"Get undressed, lay down. I'll be right back." He found some relief in her smile but it still felt painful to watch her go. Yato did as he was ordered, stripping to nothing and easing himself down on the futon. He didn't even have time to ruminate on his thoughts before she was back, bag in hand, which she tossed next to him. As she walked back over to him she unhooked her bra, tossing it aside before slipping off her panties.

"Come here," at that moment he wasn't too proud to beg, motioning her towards his good side.

Hiyori let out a sigh, feeling the knot that had started in her stomach at the beginning of the trip here finally unwinding as she was slowly reassuring herself he was alive. As she laid down next to him she felt it, his heart beating, the warmth of his skin, his breath against her lips, all of it verifying that her fears over the past month hadn't come true.

Yato let a hand run down her side before whispering, "Get up a little, on your knees."

She rolled on her stomach before bringing herself up on her knees and planting her hands to the side of Yato's shoulders. "Like this?"

"Perfect," he murmured as his hand slid up along her inner thigh, stealing the breath from her mouth. With one hand busy, the other moved to cup at her breast, teasing with his fingers. As his hand reached her core he moved achingly slow, gliding his finger along the slit, feeling the urge to groan just at the slickness that greeted him. Hiyori made the sound for him, moving her hips towards the touch. Just that sensation was driving her wild, her sensitivity peaked from all the waiting and wishing and hoping, the desperation of wanting him back so badly. "You're perfect," he whispered again before angling his head to capture her mouth.

Yato was conflicted, wanting to take it slow, to explore her like he had so many times before but the urge to get her to climax, to watch her in her joy moved his fingers between those two lips to press at her clit. She gasped against his mouth as he set a rhythm, stopping every few strokes to slip those fingers inside her as she ground her hips against his hand. His hand at her breast slid to her back, pulling her a little closer so her gasps fell on his shoulder, giving him free rein to kiss and nip at her neck. As her legs began to tremble he moved the hand back to pinch at her nipple, eliciting a moan that warmed him to the core.

At this point her hips were following his motion, grinding against his fingers until that familiar coiling sensation finally snapped, her breath coming out in a sharp cry as Hiyori felt her legs turn to rubber beneath her. She let them collapse slowly as Yato freed his hand, bringing it to her rest on her bottom as she pressed her chest to his. "Happy?" he murmured as he stole another kiss from her lips.

"Almost." He would have worried except her smile broke through another kiss. She rubbed her hips against his and Yato finally did let out his own moan, both hands moving to grasp at the curve of her hips to stop the movement.

"Hiyori…"

"Are you trying to talk me out of this?" Hiyori laughed as she sat up, her hands coming to his on her hips. "I seem to remember you trying this the first time and it didn't work."

Yato planted his hands a little firmer as a sigh escaped his lips, "Well, just like the first time I don't have a condom."

Hiyori smiled as she leaned over, grabbing the bag she had brought from the hall. "And just like the first time, I do." She extracted the box from the bag, tossing that aside so she could take out a single wrapper from the container.

Yato couldn't keep the smile off his face, another quick huff of air leaving his lips before he released her. "Rollover, then."

"No." Hiyori rolled her hips back just enough as to expose him as she ripped open the package.

Yato blinked at her as she rolled the latex down his shaft. "No?"

"You should be taking it easy, remember?" As soon as Yato was covered Hiyori repositioned her hips, her hand fixing him just perfectly so she could ease her hips down, plunging him into her with a slow exhale.

He could have lost it right there, between the way she bit her lip as she lowered herself and the beautiful way her hair cascaded over her shoulder as she leaned down to him to catch his lips quickly before rocking her hips again. It was almost embarrassing to admit they hadn't made it to this position yet, still opting for the easy usual in the newness of their sexual relationship, but he was instantly in love with the way she looked and moved on top of him. Yato tried to steady her rhythm with his hands, enjoying the way her breasts bounced with each motion, so much so that he had to grab at one, her head falling back with a pleasant little gasp.

"A little faster," he whispered breathlessly. She planted her hands above his shoulders to steady herself enough to pick up the speed. His legs stiffened as the groan parted his lips, his fingers digging into the skin of her hips. He slowed her movement with those hands, the sensation making his gut tremble. "Kiss me," he begged, hands moving from her hips to her face to pull her down to him.

Hiyori once again did as asked, her lips meeting his just in time to feel them tremble, to feel his hitching breath cut their kiss short. "Yato…"

"I'm _sorry_," he moaned out between his teeth. "Please, please, forgive me. Please. I'm sorry, you have to know that I am." His hands moved to clench in her hair, pressing her forehead to his. "Forgive me. I don't deserve it but I'll beg, I'll do whatever you want, just please."

Hiyori sighed, opening her eyes from what she thought had been a bit of ecstasy for both of them. "You can't let yourself be happy for a second, huh?" She kissed his blubbering lips again, her hands moving slowly to smear the tears away. "You don't have to beg. I may ask you to do a few things, Yato, but we'll talk about that once you've cleaned yourself up." She lifted her hips again, releasing him and bringing herself to his side, her hip scratching into the matting of the floor.

Yato was extremely slow rolling to his side before inching himself up to sitting. "I should still be begging," he muttered.

Hiyori gave his hip a little poke, urging him forward. "Well, I only said you didn't have to…"

Even with his eyes still stinging with tears, Yato could produce a speck of a laugh. "I'm going to… I'll be right back, OK?"

"I know you will." Hiyori watched him closely as he unevenly walked towards the doorway, still favoring his uninjured side when walking. It brought back that sinking feeling of his mortality that she tried to push away. She slipped under the covers, pulling them up to her shoulder as she rolled onto her stomach and let her face linger in his pillow. The deep breaths of his scent and the new memory of his fingers digging into her skin were enough to banish those thoughts for now.

"Hiyori," he had to warn her before he was close enough to touch her, still feeling as if this was a right he shouldn't be allowed. She rolled onto her side in time for him to join her beneath the covers. Yato eased himself onto his back, a long exhale escaping his lips before he turned his head to look at her. "I'm sorry-" he started again but her finger came to his lips.

"Listen to me," she murmured while she slowly blinked those magenta eyes as her lips stretched into a contented smile. "It hurt when you left and I think it was the most I'd ever hurt in my entire life, just thinking you were dead and that I'd never get to be with you again." She renewed the pressure on his lip, seeing his eyes start to well up with tears again. "I was angry with you and honestly probably still am a little and that may take some time for you to fix, for you to regain my trust because even with you here now there's this worry I can't escape that I'm going to turn my head and you'll be gone again."

Yato's hand gripped into her wrist and she allowed him to pull the finger from his mouth. "Angry should be an understatement, Hiyori, and I'm going to do everything I can to make you know I'm not leaving, not ever again. I'm not living without you and Yukine ever again." He took a deep breath before releasing her wrist to let that hand touch her face. "Hell, I'd ask you to marry me right now if I thought you'd say yes."

Her eyes widened and the soft smile faltered on her lips. "You think I'd say no?"

"You're not ready," Yato smiled wanly. "And that's my fault. Like you said, I have to fix this. I know I've joked about it but you should know that's what's in my mind, in my heart. Remember when you asked me what I wanted?"

Her mind settled on the memory, her mouth pushing out his old words, "You wanted to be good enough to deserve me."

"I'm still working on that," his voice cracked before he cleared his throat, trying to push the emotion away for now. "And I know it doesn't excuse it but leaving helped me do the things I needed to in order to really start that. I can be here for you, for Yukine now. I can take care of both of you. I'm even going to go with Yukine to that guy your mom suggested."

"Dr. Maeda?" Hiyori blinked. "You mean you're going to talk to him, too?"

"Kind of made a deal with Yukine," Yato shrugged.

Hiyori stared at him, studying that hopeful look that was starting to soften his eyes. "Will you tell me what you did? While you were gone, that is."

Yato's stomach started to knot but he had to start settling on her knowing everything, on Hiyori being aware of all the parts of him. "If you really want to know."

"And you're sure… Yukine said it should be safe now," her lips pressed together in a thin line as if to hold back more to that sentence.

This was the conundrum, wasn't it? And again his mind blinked back to that one missing link. Every part of him was aching to lie, to assure her that this, wrapped together in bed in love with each other, was all the future had in store for them. "Nora's alive. I don't know what that means, but she's out there."

The line of her lips trembled and Hiyori tried as hard as she could to bite back the tears. "So that means you not leaving, that could be a lie and-"

"No," Yato's voice boomed over their old whispers. "I'm not doing that anymore. If she comes here if she tries anything…" He thought to edit himself but that old Yaboku still shared some of his mind. "I'll kill her. I'm done hesitating. I won't play games that put you and Yukine at risk."

It felt like a tug of war in her heart between the fear and the adoration, the want to be with him and the insecurity of still not knowing exactly what he was at any given moment. His words there seemed so ugly, but at the same time were a kind of promise that she had asked for: the security that he wouldn't leave. Her mind could produce nothing other than honesty, "I don't like that you said that."

"I know," he replied quickly. "But it's the reality. That's why… that's why I thought maybe it was better for you if we didn't…" he sighed and ran a hand over his face before continuing, "I talk a lot about being good enough for you but I should probably ask if you want me to even bother. What I did, what I might have to continue doing, it's messy and I don't think my life will ever be easy and comfortable. I'll have to say and do ugly things, hopefully not as much, fuck, hopefully never, but the reality is I'm going to always be part Yaboku."

Hiyori felt the rest of the glow of the moment rushing away and her nakedness suddenly becoming vulnerability instead of comfort. There was a very real possibility that she could let herself weaken at that moment, give in to fear and that natural human wants for normalcy but instead she collapsed forward, pressing to him for that familiar warmth as she hid her face in the crux of his neck. Without hesitation, Yato wrapped both arms around her, letting one trail down her back while the other tangled in her hair. "You're what I want. The rest that comes with it… I'll have to learn to deal with it."

Yato sighed long and hard as her chest bobbed along with his. "There's a part of me that wishes you'd give up, Hiyori, but the louder, selfish part of me is the happiest man alive right now."

"Wanting love isn't selfish, Yato," she murmured.

"It is when it costs the other person everything," he sighed as his hand tangled in her hair again, real possibilities playing in his head. "What are you going to do about school? About your career? Last I knew you weren't planning on living here but Sayuri made it sound like you, me, and Yukine were going to be a happy little family in this house from now on."

Hiyori lifted her head to stare at those bright blue eyes of his, to catch his gaze that didn't necessarily want to look at her. "There's a hospital nearby. I've already gotten a job there and I start Monday."

Yato's eyes rolled as if the conversation was painful, his voice came out hoarse, "But school-"

"I told you, I'm still decided what I want so a year of work won't kill me." Hiyori's eyes trailed away, focusing on her fingers grazing his bare chest. "And I want you to put serious thought into what you want to do. I'm sure there are odd jobs around here, too, but you're… maybe free isn't the right word."

"Maybe that'll be something I figure out with the shrink," he gave a rueful laugh. His voice was quieter this time, tip-toeing a line in his own heart, "But you're going to live here with me? The two of us together every day like this? I'd make a cute little quip about mommy, daddy, and baby Yukine but I'm sure he'd know about it and come for me."

That brought a laugh to her lips and she brought her sparkling eyes to his as his hand grazed her cheek. "Yes, if you'll let me."

"Like I could say no," he laughed softly before nipping at her lip. This kiss took time, Yato searching her mouth to taste the hopeful promises she was making to him. It was divine, her taste and the feeling of her skin against his creating a kind of elation he'd never experienced before. This was safety, the kind that you find in the steadiness of a love that wasn't anywhere close to ending.

* * *

Yato's back and side felt like a kerosene fire but that wasn't an excuse to stop his fight with stump leftover from a withered old unidentifiable bush that was making his new yard too ugly to bear. If he had actually stopped moving and tried to reflect here, he would see that this was simply him struggling against this new free time, the new life he's made here, and losing to it. The stump wasn't necessarily ugly, just an excuse to not spend his time working on what he was supposed to be: himself, and by extension, his relationships.

"You need a mattock for that." Yato whipped around too quickly to follow the voice, feeling the pain rear up in his side. His knees crumpled and he took a hard seat on his ass, eyes squinting up painfully at the older man's face hovering over the hedge. "Didn't mean to frighten you."

"Easily frightened," Yato breathed between his teeth. As the wave of pain subsided Yato attempted a smile, watching as the other man seemed unconvinced, "What's a mattock?"

"Like an ax but made for stumps. Mr. Kimura should have one, two doors down." He jutted his chin in the direction of their eastern neighbors before reaching up a hand to resettle the glasses that had slipped on the bridge of his nose with the action.

"Thanks, uh…"

The man rested an arm on the hedge, his hand extended towards Yato. "Abe Shohei. And you are?"

They shook quickly, Yato once again chiding himself on the sweaty nature of his palms. "Iki Yato," the lie felt warm on his lips. He'd adopted many last names in his life, wearing them like some women do hair colors but borrowing hers made his stomach flip.

"Iki…" Shohei pondered over it, sending Yato into a spiral of fear. "The old woman who used to live here, her daughter married into that family, right?"

"Ah, yeah, yes," Yato was quickly trying to piece together another lie.

"So you're her son, then?"

Yato's mouth moved too quickly, "No."

"Then…?"

"Hiyori's her daughter." He wished his foot would fly directly into his mouth. _Did almost dying turn my brain to mush? You should have just said yes! Idiot, idiot, idiot-_

Shohei frowned before shrugging it off with a laugh, "So strange how this generation sometimes takes the wife's last name."

_My wife!_ With that the old Yato seemed to settle in, telling one of those easy good-for-business lies, the kind that placated people into trust. "You see, when we got engaged, this old fortune-teller told us that my last name would bring bad luck, some business about the kanji and stars and all that, and Hiyori's just so superstitious that, well, who was I to say no?"

Shohei grunted a laugh in reply before eyeing Yato's work. "Your mother-in-law gave you the place, then?"

"Just letting us stay here while we get settled," Yato's mind continued to scramble. "I have my brother to take care of. You've probably seen him. Yukine."

He pondered this before nodding, "The blond boy, right?"

"Yeah, half-brother," Yato shrugged the comparison off. "My mother passed and, well, I'm the only family he's got left."

"Sorry to hear that," came along with the commiserative head nod.

_Why don't you tell him your birthday and your social security number, too?_ His mind snapped at him, but he had to convince himself this was still falling into the good-for-business lie territory, setting up a backstory for the trusty neighborhood hired hand. "So we're staying here, for now, until I guess we get things figured out. Hiyori's working over at the Nakamura Hospital and I'm… working on this stump for now."

"Well, there's plenty of work if you're good with your hands," Shohei offered jovially.

Those words were music to Yato's ears, his lies all dominoing him into this perfect position, back to odd jobs, back to at least the only comfortable part of his old, bordering-Yaboku life. "I sure am. You let me know what you need doing and I'll do it. You can spread that around, too."

"Well, get that mattock from Kimura and we'll talk." Shohei took a long, reading gaze over him. "But with your side as it is, I'd take it easy for at least another week."

Yato's taste for lies suddenly went bitter, little to no explanation coming freely to his mind for the wound. "Yeah, I'm still technically supposed to be recovering."

"You do that first," Shohei nodded towards the stump. "Let that wait."

"Yes, sir," Yato bowed his head to emphasize the respect in those words. When he raised his head again the man was gone, leaving Yato scratching his head between the hedge and the stump. He lifted his shirt, using it to mop the sweat from his brow that had accumulated regardless of the slight chill that wasn't ready to give way to spring. Before he could go back to stabbing at the stump with his shovel he heard her soft footsteps, her head sticking through the screen he'd left open.

"What are you doing?" Hiyori narrowed her eyes.

"Something I shouldn't be," he muttered before tossing the shovel aside. "How was work?"

"Oh, busy, the weather's changing, so everyone's got that little beginning of spring cold," Hiyori was tired but could still manage a laugh at the predictability of people.

The laugh caught in her throat as he firmly wrapped his arms around her, hands instantly slipping under the hem of her shirt. "I talked to the neighbor today."

"Mr. Abe?"

Yato raised an eyebrow at her. "You know him?"

"Barely, maybe met him a few times when I was here with grandma, but he seemed nice enough." Hiyori reached up and cleared some of the hair from his forehead, grimacing a little at the sweat.

Her touch should have brought his eyes to hers but instead, they fluttered around the room, trying to find somewhere else to be other than her gaze. "I may have… told him we were married."

"Oh?" Hiyori laughed.

"Well, you know the older crowd. It's easier for them to think we married young that we're _living in sin._" He let out a weak laugh but still couldn't look at her, hating the fact that he knew he was blushing at the thought of it.

"So a better-for-business lie," she giggled again, turning the pink on his face red. "Not just wishful thinking?"

"Hiyori…" He couldn't let her laugh about that, capturing her lips for a lingering moment because sometimes it did feel like it was the only thing on his mind. "I meant it. I'll ask when you're ready."

"How do you think you'll know when that is?" she murmured.

He couldn't stop his hand from shaking as he removed it from her shirt and brought it to her face, smudging her cheek as he caressed with his fingers. "I think I'll just know." There was no better way to describe it since he could swear he still felt hesitation in her touch or the way she seemed to grab on to him at night as if his body were to disappear at any moment. "Or you could make it easy on me and tell me."

She smiled but let the comment drop, leaving a heavy pause between the two of them. "I guess it's just practice for now."

"Practice," he echoed before moving his head to press his lips against the nape of her neck.

"Yato…" Hiyori let a hand tangle in his hair.

"Come help me wash up," he breathed against her neck.

Hiyori went stiff, her hands instantly falling to his shoulders to pull him away. "Does your side hurt that badly?"

Yato had no control over the chuckle that her concern elicited, even when he got a frown in return. "No, just a thinly disguised request for you to undress me while I do the same for you."

"Yukine," Hiyori started.

And Yato finished, "Is at the doctor for another half hour. So we can't waste any more time." Without any prompting from her, Yato moved his hands back to her waist, leading her back down the hallway, those little echoes of _wife _and _practice _driving him forward.


	19. Therapy

I hope you all enjoy! And don't worry about Suzuha.

* * *

Yato had thought being stabbed, leaving Hiyori, killing Sakura had been the most anxiety-producing times in his life but somehow this moment ranked, making the sweat break out in his palms and the back of his neck. It was Yukine that exited first, his eyes following his shoes rather than where he was going, compelling Yato to stand and plant his hands on the younger boy's shoulders. "You OK?"

"Yeah, whatever," Yukine shrugged him off and slowly brought his eyes up. "Your turn."

"Yeah," he murmured weakly. "Maybe you should go home, hang with Hiyori."

Yukine blew some air between his lips and then sharply shook his head. "No, I'm waiting for you."

"Yato?" Dr. Maeda had waited for the exchange, watching the two men and their body language carefully. "Today's the day, correct?"

"Yes." Yato felt that sharp twinge of fear, his hackles raising without a real reason. _Sayuri knows him, trusts him. You can't have secrets anymore._

"Come in, then, please." Dr. Maeda swung his arm, motioning into the office Yukine had just vacated.

He felt like running, grabbing Yukine and making for the hills because this was just above and beyond what he was capable of but… it was for her. For them. For his family. "Yukine's staying to keep me honest but I can't guarantee I'll do much more than smile and nod for the next hour." Yato tried to drop himself as nonchalantly as he could into the couch and he even considering throwing his feet up for added flair.

Dr. Maeda watched Yato move, amusement sparkling in his eyes. "Well, the first meeting is usually even. I'll ask you a lot of questions and you should answer as best you can." He sat in the leather armchair opposite the couch and picked up a notepad off the desk before settling it on his knee. "First, how old are you?"

Yato shrugged, "Sorry to disappoint, but I don't actually know. Some days it feels like a million years old but it's probably somewhere closer to twenty."

Dr. Maeda nodded as if this was an understandable issue before continuing, "Your mother, how old is she? What is she like?"

"Strike two," Yato let a weak laugh part his lips. "I think I remember her being sick, but Father told me she died when I was born."

"Your father, then?"

Yato mimicked the sound of a bat cracking a ball followed by a long, driving whistle, eliciting a bemused smile from Dr. Maeda. "Father doesn't-" he cut himself off with a delirious laugh. "Didn't. He didn't have an age, either, really, just existed. But he's dead now. Past tense."

"And he was a cult leader, correct?" That sentence should have come in a tone of shock and abhorrence but Dr. Maeda delivered it with a cool Yato couldn't process.

Yato struggled with wanting to edit and add since that word fell flat, but there weren't enough intricacies. "Sure, that's close enough. I guess Yukine has already gone over some of this."

"Yes, but hearing it from you is also important," Dr. Maeda seemed to dip into seriousness his, his eyebrows narrowing for just a moment. "You said he passed."

The tremble started in his stomach and twittered up into his chest, making his throat almost close against the words. _This should be easy. I killed him. I killed him. I stuck a piece of metal in his throat and watched him bleed out. _"Safe space, right?" his voice warbled out.

Dr. Maeda nodded, "Whatever you say doesn't leave this room."

"I killed him." It felt like all the air had left the room and he struggled with the breath to feed the next sentence. "I had no choice." Yato watched for the reaction, gauging it against his need to run.

Dr. Maeda only nodded again, not even a change in the frequency of his blinks before asking the next question. "Was he the first person you've killed?"

"No," Yato croaked.

"When did that start?"

That question caught him like a wave, threatening to pull him under where air wasn't a possibility. "I was young. I don't know how old but I killed… a girl when I was probably about five." _A girl. A girl. Say her name. Say her name and relive the guilt of what you did._

"Did you know her?"

Another crashing, crushing question in the riptide. _Say her name. Say her name._ "Sakura. I loved her."

"That must have been difficult." Dr. Maeda didn't make this a question, letting the comment swell over the boy he knew he was battering from the beginning. Sayuri had told him this wouldn't be easy and he hadn't exactly doubted it because watching a man break is never comfortable, simple.

"She asked me to," that voice felt alien, complaining and scared, begging for forgiveness for something he'd told himself a million times he didn't need forgiveness for. "She begged me and I had to, I had no choice."

"That's the second time you've said that, that you don't have a choice. Is that usually the situation you find yourself in?" Dr. Maeda leaned forward in the chair, hands steepling over the notebook.

"I do what I'm asked to do." This did feel more like him, but at the same time, Yato was terrified of the truth in those words and the ones he was about to let loose, "I do what I have to, what I think people need to be happy. Even with Father, I killed for him so he'd be happy. I killed Sakura to free her so maybe she could be somewhere else where she could be happy. I killed Father… so Hiyori could be happy."

This did elicit the raising of an eyebrow from Dr. Maeda. "Hiyori asked you to kill your father?"

"No," Yato groaned as he rubbed a hand over his eyes, hiding his want to cry. "But if I was going to give her what she really wanted, some kind of life with me, that meant he had to not be available to control mine. Fujisaki and Nora included. All of my past had to go."

"How long have you known Hiyori?"

While this question felt like a breath of fresh air, Yato was weary, sure that it was a false reprieve. "At this point, almost a year."

Dr. Maeda seemed to scribble something down, building onto Yato's anxiety. "And when did your romantic relationship start?"

"Six months after we met," Yato sighed out, letting himself have just one sweet second of reminiscing, thinking of her kissing him. "But I was in love with her since we met. Just… kind of didn't want to admit it."

This seemed to have more of his attention, notes ambling across the page. "Why was that?"

"Why was I in love with her or why couldn't I admit it?" Yato laughed weakly.

Dr. Maeda chuckled in return, "If you're offering the answer to both, then go ahead."

Yato rolled his shoulders as if needing to warm up for that answer. "This'll sound crazy but she was the first person to remember me. Really remember me."

"Could you clarify what you mean, remembering you?" Dr. Maeda hated to interrupt lines of thought but his curiosity spurred him. As far as he was aware, Yato had Yukine, also a pair that Yukine had mentioned, Kofuku and Daikoku that were actively aware of the boy's existence.

"Look, Yukine and I live in another world. We're nothing better than spirits." Yato leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees. "Regular people, they don't see us, don't notice us because they're not concerned with the world beyond themselves, you know? And they shouldn't be. They shouldn't have to see a murderer with his dead kid side-kick roaming the streets."

"But you consider Hiyori a regular person, not part of that world?"

"No," Yato hesitated, "Maybe, I don't know. She's special. I know that sounds lame like of course, the boyfriend is going to say '_Oh, my girlfriend's special'_ but she… her heart's too big, that's it. She loves too much, too strongly and maybe that does make her somewhere stuck in the middle." He had to pause and Dr. Maeda let him, Yato running through the words he just said as if they needed to be double-checked. "And I felt like wanting that for myself, wanting her was selfish because me having things… I can't."

"But you agreed to a romantic relationship because…?"

"Because she wanted it." Yato let one of his hands fall, moving to make a fist and dig it in his thigh. "Fuck, that's a lie. Or maybe that's half of it but the other part was _me_. I went to her room that night, I _gave_ her the opportunity. If I really was set on keeping myself away, I would have cut ties with her the first chance I got. And maybe that means… maybe I didn't kill Father just for her, because it was what she needed. I wanted out, too."

Dr. Maeda sat back in the chair, a frank sort of smile spreading across his lips. "You're fairly introspective, Yato."

"Should I take that as a compliment?" Yato sighed, still digging into his leg.

"You can," Dr. Maeda nodded. "But I'll also say there's a bit of overanalysis. Maybe you spend too much time on the finer details than admiring the entirety of the work."

"You lost me," Yato grumbled.

"You call yourself a murderer." Dr. Maeda pointed with his pen and Yato flinched a little as if the tip had somehow wounded him across the room.

"Because I spent the majority of my life murdering," Yato spat.

Dr. Maeda jabbed again at the air. "But is that entirely what you are? So much so that it should be the only word you use to describe yourself?"

"I…" Yato stumbled.

"You said you do things to make people happy. Has there been other tasks besides murder?" Dr. Maeda tapped the pen back to the paper as if waiting to transcribe the answer.

"Yeah," this was said with a little more strength. "Well, after Yukine came along, yeah."

Dr. Maeda touched his finger to his lips, tapping it there for Yato to count. "That will be your homework until the next time we meet."

"Homework?" Yato coughed out incredulously.

"Yes," Dr. Maeda's smile bordered too much on amusement for Yato to bear. "Before the next time we meet, you should make a list of all the other tasks you've completed."

The sound started but stopped at Yato's Adam's apple, turning into something closer to a throat clear. He pressed that fist into his thigh one more time before sighing. "OK. Is it cheating if I get Hiyori to help?"

"Not at all," Dr. Maeda laughed.

"Fine." Yato stood quickly and jammed his hands into his pockets. "Next week, then?"

"Next week." Dr. Maeda stood and plopped the notepad in his seat. He moved towards the door, opening it with a resistant creak to show a fidgeting Yukine. There was a second body in the room setting the blond boy on edge. "Ah, Suzuha, come in."

Yato made way for the brunette boy who couldn't be much older than Yukine before turning to his charge. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," Yukine muttered before beating Yato to the door.

"You talk to that other kid?" Yato struggled to keep pace with the boy who seemed to be trying to wear out his soles.

"Yeah, making friends in your therapist's office, great idea," Yukine added an eye roll in Yato's direction as if the sarcasm wasn't enough.

Yato shook his head with an exasperated sigh. "Just making a friend would be a great idea. You start school next week and it might be good to have some kind of cushion before you come in."

"And being friends with the crazy kid would be the perfect way to start." Yukine was trying to hold strong to his sass but it was wavering, some leftover emotions cracking through his voice.

As they hit the street Yato contemplated even bothering to continue the conversation, risking nosy neighbors and the wrath of a cheeky teenager. After being ripped apart by Dr. Maeda he wasn't even sure he wanted to continue talking at all, but with a sigh, he offered up the only thing he knew would flip Yukine's mood. "I got homework."

Yukine stopped short, throwing a guffaw over his shoulder. "Homework? Seriously? Does he not realize you're a slacker?"

Yato used the opportunity to throw an arm around Yukine's shoulder, comforted by the fact that the boy didn't instantly throw him off and continued walking in stride. "If I do it, do you think I get extra therapy credit? Because I'm pretty sure my grade is _shit_ right now."

"You don't get graded," Yukine sighed out the obvious. "But you told him everything he wanted, right? It's not going to work if you just bullshit."

"I did," Yato frowned down at the younger boy. "Definitely didn't want to, but… well, you know. I'm going to get better, for you guys."

"For Hiyori," Yukine corrected.

"And you," Yato couldn't stop himself from gripping Yukine's shoulder a little tighter. "When we met, that's when I made the first big change. You're just as important and you deserve just as much out of me as she does."

Yukine bowed his head, leaving his face obscured. There was no reason to push him and instead, Yato just found himself sliding his hand from Yukine's shoulder to his head, ruffling his hair before giving the boy space. While the rest of the walk home was quiet, the arrival home seemed to lift both of them. Hiyori had been waiting on the doorstep, her eyebrows furrowed until she saw both of them at the end of the walk and the elated smile took her face.

"Welcome home!" She chimed before catapulting herself into Yukine's arms.

He welcomed her touch, weakly sinking into her and letting his head rest on her shoulder. "Glad to be home," came out as a half-hearted mutter from Yukine.

"I made sukiyaki," she offered hopefully, a hand running over his hair.

"Then I might survive." Yukine pressed his face into her shoulder for just one extra moment. As he pulled away, much to the surprise of all on the doorstep Hiyori grasped his cheeks and planted a delicate kiss on the crown of his head. "Hiyori," he tried to make it sound like a complaint but it was a little too squeaky.

"Go in and wash up," she finished maternally, turning him towards the door and out of her way of Yato. She waited for the clomp of his feet in the foyer and down the hall before placing a soft hand on Yato's chest. "How did it go?"

"Fine, mom," Yato grinned. "I think you almost gave him a heart attack."

"He needs love, Yato," she rolled her eyes. "And maybe acting like a mom is what he needs. I'll give it a shot until he tells me he hates it. But, really, how did it go?"

Yato sighed, "Don't I get a kiss? Get to go in and wash up and have sukiyaki before I'm interrogated?"

"No, spill." Hiyori crossed her arms and tried to hide the amused smile by pressing her lips together.

He placed a hand at each of her elbows, pulling her a little closer to mimic her action to Yukine and kiss the place where her bangs started. "He asked a lot of questions. I gave him all the truthful answers I could. I got homework that I've been given permission to have you help me."

"Homework?" Her laugh wasn't half as hearty as Yukine's reaction but still amused. "What's the assignment?"

"Later," Yato muttered before pushing her through the doorway step by step. "You can help me with it tomorrow. Not exactly feeling up to it right now."

Hiyori dug her feet in as soon as they hit the hallway and pressed her hands into his chest. "Are you alright, Yato?"

He shrugged and found himself mirroring the frown that motion elicited from her. "No," he groaned out at the honesty. "I'm opening up old shit that…" The words stuck in his throat as he looked into Hiyori's eyes sparking up to him, for a moment reminded of what he had said and finding that, yes, she was seeing him, only him, just as he was. "Tell me you love me."

"I love you," she replied without a second of hesitation. Hiyori brought her hands to his face, pulling him in to give him a whisper of a kiss. "Whatever it is, you know I love you."

"It's stuff that reminds me that I still have a lot of work to do," the words felt stiff but right. "Now, can we eat? I'm starving." The last part he was still too exhausted to say but she let him get away with it, turning from him to start the walk to the kitchen. Yato refused to let her get completely away, taking a quick step to wrap his arms around her waist, shuffling the two of them together awkwardly down the hall.

"Let go," she laughed as she attempted to unlatch his hands. "Yato!"

He pressed a kiss to the crux of her neck, sighing there for just a moment before relinquishing his hold. "Meet you there."

Hiyori split with him, her turning towards the kitchen while he left to wash up. As she entered, Yukine was already puttering around and she directed him to start the slow migration of food from the counter in the kitchen to the dining room. By the time everything was arranged Yato had joined them and the quietest dinner in the history of that house started. While Hiyori shared what she could of her day, both of the boys were uncharacteristically mute, mouths doing nothing more than chewing food and accepting breath.

She gave up trying to pry words or thoughts from them, letting Yato and Yukine float through the evening silently. Even when watching TV there wasn't the usual banter, the added amusement of the two sharing quips about the entertainment on the screen strangely absent. By the time they got ready for bed, Hiyori was almost sure she would need therapy if this gloom continued, feeling strangely strained and uncomfortable as she slipped between the sheets next to Yato.

He was pretending to sleep and held onto that illusion until she pried it from him, her fingers pulling, wrapping around him in the darkness. "Yato…"

"I'm sleeping," he muttered.

"You are not," she sighed. "Are you going to tell me?"

"About what?" He knew playing dumb wasn't going to work but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try. He lifted one lid just in time to be met with her face frowning down over him as she brought herself up on her elbow, one hand gathering the fabric of his shirt at his chest.

Hiyori only stared, battling with herself about what she was asking for. _The homework_, was her first instinct, but he'd promised that for tomorrow even though with enough begging she could probably get it tonight. _What did he say, what did Dr. Maeda ask, what was he feeling, why was he quiet, why was Yukine quiet, why, what? _It was a dizzying rush of questions and she pressed her head desperately to his chest, her cheek resting on her fist.

"Hiyori…" her name came out with a sigh and Yato wrapped his arms around her. "What do you want to know? If it's what I did… what I've done you have to ask me. I don't think I can just tell those stories on my own." It wasn't just his voice shaking by the end but he could feel his body tremble under hers, a strange sensation of weakness scaring him to the core. _If I let her have this, all of this, what will I get in return? Hatred, loathing, fear? I can't see her loving me, somehow I just still can't._

She lifted her head, "Tell me how I can make you feel better."

A weak cough of air, something that was supposed to be a laugh, spat from his lips and he felt the urge to cry overwhelm him, forcing him to press his fingers to his eyes. "Not sure there's anything in the world that can get that done. I, uh…" his voice quavered and he had to suck in air to stop the flow of tears. "I need time. Time with you, time like this."

"You're not…" Hiyori searched for the right words, her own fear filtering them down. "You don't regret it, do you?"

His hands grabbed at her face while a delirious laugh parted his lips and made any thought of crying fall away. "The only thing I regret is leaving you, hurting you. Me being unhappy isn't _you_, but I'm not sure I'm going to be able to help it for a while."

Her worried fingers played with his shirt. "Then what do I do for you?"

"Be you," he let a grin part his lips. "Keep reminding me what I'm trying to deserve."

She searched his face wordlessly, hating the way she could see his honesty painted all over it. The worst part of it all was that her words here would be useless, the cry that she wanted to give that he was already worthy, all of her hurts healing slowly just like the hole in his side.


	20. Asking a Question

Wow, guys, I'm sorry this took so long. I swear I'm starting to figure this out towards an ending, maybe, hopefully...

* * *

"Surprise!" Kofuku crashed through the front door, not noticing as it barely stayed on its hinges.

"It's not a surprise when we know you're coming," Yato called from the living room. Yukine was quick to start the hustle towards the voices in the hallway but Yato stayed put, legs stretched under the kotatsu to leach the last of the warmth.

Kofuku was the first through the doorway, diving on Yato with a boundless intensity built from the separation. She'd been used to the boys in her attic, the wayward souls that didn't have anything else and being without them now had left many a day listless. "Where's Hiyori?" she cooed as she smushed her cheek into his.

"You're early," he choked, Kofuku's arms tight around his neck. "She'll be back from the market any second."

"Well," Kofuku settled next to him on the floor. "Gives me time to tell you what an idiot you are."

Yato groaned, slinking further under the kotatsu as if the cover would hide him, let him disappear into an alternate universe where he wasn't about to get chewed out. "I've heard it from that one already," he sent a limp finger Yukine's way as he entered through the door, Daikoku looming behind him.

"You," she punctuated this with a finger to the center of his forehead. "Put all of us through hell, Yato. Unforgivable. Completely unforgivable."

Yato sent a withering look Yukine's way which was completely dispelled by the gloating joy on the younger boy's face. "Totally. I'm an asshole, a jerk, an idiot. Next?"

"Which means you owe all of us," Kofuku took a moment to point around the room, earning a nod from Yukine but an eye roll from Daikoku.

Daikoku was more than happy to try to ignore his wife's diatribe as he started towards the table, fishing goods out of the bag he had brought. It was mostly treats, desserts that he had made himself, but also too much sake for the group. As soon as the bottle hit the table, Yato's hand was already up to beckon, and Daikoku had to smother a laugh, knowing that any humor now would mean the death of him.

With another pump of her finger to his forehead, Kofuku continued as the nail digging into his skin. "And what about Hiyori?"

"Not before the sake," Yato groaned. "Please, just let the drinking start first."

Daikoku nodded the affirmative to Yukine, urging him towards the kitchen for the glasses. He was quick, hearing Yato's continued whines in the background. With glasses in hand, Yukine came back, adding a little kick to Yato as he moved past and handed them to Daikoku who instantly got to pouring.

Kofuku kept at her poking. "You made her wait like a beautiful war-bride…"

All three started to tune out, Yato's hand clutched tightly around the glass as Daikoku poured. _Please, come home, Hiyori_, he begged off into the universe as he threw back his first glass. It was right back on the table after, getting another top off of liquid before Daikoku started on his own cup.

"I'm home!" came the relief-inducing chime of Hiyori's voice from the entryway.

"Yay!" Kofuku was officially diverted, leaving a little crescent moon on Yato's forehead as she darted into the hallway to tackle her next unsuspecting victim.

"Cheers," Daikoku held out his glass to Yato, grinning as they clinked together.

"Cheers," Yato grumbled before downing the second cup. He only got a flash of Hiyori's face, a quick wave of her hand as Kofuku forced her into the kitchen. "Fill it again."

Yukine settled himself next to Daikoku, stopping his reach with the bottle. "Slow down."

"Look at the little mother hen," Daikoku laughed as he tousled Yukine's hair. "Let the man drink. He's going to have a long night."

"Since when do you stand up for him?" Yukine grumbled as he let the bottle go, watching disappointed as Yato's glass refilled.

"Since he did what he was supposed to do." Daikoku raised his glass again, clinking it to the one tightly gripped in Yato's hand. "I'm proud of you, Yato."

Yato rolled his eyes, "You can stop."

"Really, Yato, come on." Daikoku paused to drain his own glass, letting the warmth drill in his belly. "I honestly never thought you'd free yourself. It took balls."

"It took Hiyori," Yukine corrected.

"It took a lot more than that," Yato groaned before shooting down another glass. He was slowly edging his legs out from underneath the kotatsu, the heat of the liquor in his blood making it feel more like summer. "I know Kofuku isn't wrong. I owe all of you guys, not to mention Ebisu and her parents."

"Actually," Daikoku shot back another drink before clearing his throat. "Debt's kind of paid."

Yato faked a hard laugh, "Cute. I'm not that drunk yet."

"No," Daikoku moved to the second bag, lifting it and tossing it on the top of the kotatsu. "All in all, you under-the-table fed me about $200,000."

"What?" Yukine almost shrieked before Yato hushed him with a sharp '_sh_.'

"Gave Ebisu about $50,000. Offered him more but he claims he already forgot the deal."

"Typical," Yato grumbled as he started to dig his fingers into the tatami mat, guilt starting to lap at him like high tide was coming in.

"Kazuma flat out refused money since taking care of Yukine's easy." Daikoku tossed Yukine's hair again, getting a long-suffering sigh from the teen. "And we only took $25,000. So, you've got a whole $125,000 at your disposal."

This had honestly been his insurance policy, meant to pay out on his death. It wasn't supposed to be divided, just lump-summed on Yukine to keep him alive, safe, away with Daikoku and Kofuku as executors to keep him in line. Instead, here it was sitting on the counter and he was still alive and well, minus that little bit of ache he still had in his side every now and then. "Take a full 50, Daikoku."

Daikoku tried to wave it off. "Come on, 25 is fine for the two of us."

Yato took another long draft, putting the cup back again next to the bottle. "Fill this and take the 50. And Yukine, another 50s going into savings for you."

"$50,000?" Yukine's voice was just one octave below a squeal.

Yato rolled onto his stomach, grumbling into the mat. "You can have it once you're 18, once you want to get out there and do your own thing."

"And what's the other 50 for?" The sake had Daikoku grinning like a fool. "I mean, engagement rings should really be under 10. You're a fool to go over $1000."

Yato groaned, grinding his face into the mat. "She'll never marry an idiot like me."

"You're marrying Hiyori," Yukine spat back.

"Sure, I want to, but she-" Yato cut himself off quickly as he heard the footsteps, waiting to see those somehow beautiful little ankles rush past his view. And there they were, bringing those thoughts into full-gear rather than a screaming halt. He wanted to marry those ankles, the legs attached to them that curved to a beautiful set of hips. "Hiyori," he purred from the floor.

"You're drunk." She nudged him with her foot, just barely getting it away before he grabbed for it.

Yato still grabbed at her regardless of the futility. "Drunk in love with you."

Hiyori sighed in reply before kneeling down next to him. His hands were instantly on her thighs, pulling himself closer so he could rest his head in her lap. "Yato," she chided with her voice but still ran a comforting hand through his hair.

"Did you tell him the good news?" Kofuku added a little twirl, finally giving the show-man hands that Yato usually used to highlight the bag on the table.

"Good news?" Hiyori cooed down to Yato, smoothing his hair again.

Yato '_humphed'_ in reply, digging his face further into her lap, trying to hide away the blush that was renewing on his cheeks. It wasn't just the alcohol, it was the thought that he had that money for her, for _them_, for a _family_ if she would ever even agree to that.

"Yato," Yukine snapped sharply.

"Fine," he mumbled. "We've got $50,000."

Hiyori's hands froze. "What?"

"I know it's not a lot," he raised his head slowly from her lap, "but for now, we've got $50,000 to, I don't know, just live. That doesn't mean I'm not going to do my jobs, or-"

Hiyori planted a finger against his lips. "Where did you get that money?"

Her finger over his lips was supposed to be playful, but this drained all the fun from him. "Guess you can say it's a parting gift from my dad."

Hiyori grabbed his cheeks, "Give it away."

"Hiyori," he started but the look on her face offered him no window for argument. "Please, babe-"

"Babe?" She blinked before shaking her head. "Don't sweet talk me. If it's from your father-"

He reached up slowly, anxiously buttoning her lips with his finger. "Later, ok. Yell at me later."

Hiyori's eyes stubbornly trailed along the room, waiting for some kind of backup and receiving none. She huffed out a breath, batting his hand away. "Give me some sake."

Yato instantly offered his cup, watching with piqued interest as she slammed it back like a shot. "You know, you can enjoy it a little."

"I'll enjoy it _later_," it was a borderline hiss.

Yato sighed before slowly easing himself up, reaching for the bottle to fill her glass again. He wasn't entirely sure reasoning with her while drunk would be better, but he was at least one hundred percent sure that trying while she was sober wasn't going to be of any use either. So while she was emptying each refill, he was trying to formulate a plan. That was until he managed to get Yukine to get him another glass and he continued to spill sake down his gullet, instead opting to forget completely about the bag on the table.

Kofuku and Hiyori had cooked enough to feed an army and while it soaked up most of the fuzzy feeling in Hiyori's head, Yato was still closer to a slug than a human, brain capacity as gone as the first and second bottle. Yukine stayed up as late as he could, but as soon as everything devolved to carousing he opted to leave them, having to be torn away from Yato by an apologetic Hiyori. It wasn't long after that Hiyori shuffled Kofuku and Daikoku off to bed, leaving them in the guest room next to Yukine's.

As she walked back slowly to the living room with the expectation of peeling Yato off the floor, Hiyori felt the longing hit her, the strange want to go back to what wasn't exactly normal. She missed Kofuku's, missed the constant contact with Kazuma who had mostly become a voice on the other end of a line, and most of all missed her family. All were a train's ride away, but it felt like another dimension as if she no longer existed in the mortal world now that she had chosen him. It wasn't regret, because if she tried to say now that she did not love him or treasure him more than all the rest of it, that would be a lie, but it was longing.

Hiyori expected him half under the kotatsu again, starting to doze in his drunken stupor but all she found was a cleared table, the light already out as if the house hadn't been bustling just fifteen minutes ago. She stood, hands on her hips trying to absorb this, to listen for movement in the house. She could still hear settling from the guest room but the rest of the house was silent, sending a chill down her spine. _He's gone. He's not here. Something, someone took him and he's gone, gone, gone._ But the chill wasn't just the thought but a draft, the goosebumps trickling up her exposed legs until she realized it was the night air.

Following the breeze was easy, the sliding door off the kitchen still open enough to let it buzz through the house. She cursed him for the foolishness of leaving it open but not for the hint, and as she stepped out onto the engawa she noticed him in the middle of the yard planted next to the stump, one hand grinding against it. "Yato?"

"Hey," he murmured. "Sorry, left the door open, didn't I?"

"I thought you were gone," she blurted, unable to coax the remnant of the feeling away, having it take root again in her heart and spring the tears to her eyes.

"Fuck," he stumbled to his feet, trying to dust himself off in the process before grabbing her tightly to his chest. "No, I'm here. I'm always going to be here. I'm always going to be with you." As one hand smoothed through her hair the other trailed up and down her back, making soft lines with his fingers. "I'm sorry I called you babe."

She croaked a laugh against his chest, her fists clenching into the side of his shirt. "You know I hate that."

"But you're too cute, Hiyori, to exist without a pet name," he murmured as he rocked her back and forth. "Babe, honey, sweetheart, sugarplum."

Hiyori let out another trembling laugh, wiping away the tears on his shirt. "You're so stupid."

"Yeah, stupid enough to think you'd take that money," he muttered before relaxing his grip. It was a frozen moment, the way he stared down at her, waiting for her to rightfully jump down his throat, tear apart the idea. Instead, he found her quiet, staring, her eyes hard but still ready to absorb him. "I know the cash is all wrong. It's the worst thing, especially since it was supposed to be my insurance policy, money because I'd be dead right now and the rest of you would need it."

"You weren't supposed to be planning your own death," she grumbled.

"Yeah, and I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you either, but I do what I think's best and that was it." He sunk his fingers into her hair, finding her thankfully pliable enough that he could pull her into a kiss. She tasted like sake and the strawberry mochi Daikoku had brought specifically for her. "No matter what, Yukine's getting his share. He's going to need it. Being with us will get old and he's going to want to have a life and I'm the last link he has to his past. But our half, if you want me to just add it to Yukine's, I will. You want me to let Ebisu or Daikoku have it, I will. If you want me to throw that money in the ocean, I will."

He kissed her again, silencing her choice until he could build up the nerve for the next string of words that were bleeding out from his heart. "But if you let me keep it, it's for _us_. I'll use it to fix up the house, to make a drop in the fucking ocean of paying back your parents, to give you a cushion if you want to go back to school full-time instead of working, and maybe just a little bit so I can buy you a ring. Not a lot, since I know you're not the flashy type, but enough to give you what you deserve, Hiyori."

She blinked up at him, her lips parting hesitantly before taking in a trembling breath. "Are you asking me?"

"What kind of idiot asks without a ring?" he murmured breathlessly. "You'd have to say '_no_' if I was asking without a ring. But if I was… would you think about it?"

Hiyori shook her head slowly.

Yato sighed as his fingers searched deeper into her hair. "I know, I know. Your first thought tonight was that I was gone. I'm still not doing a great job on that front, I guess."

"That's not it," she whispered.

He couldn't help it, the way his mouth slacked dumbly, "What?"

"I wouldn't have to think about it." Hiyori tipped into him again, throwing him off his balance and forcing him to grab at her. It felt impossible to steady himself, not because of the liquor or his foot almost hitting the divet around the stump, but her words sending him into a dizzying euphoria. Even if he had to chuck the money, send it off into the ocean spray, he'd work every moment of his life just to earn enough to get the right to ask that question.

* * *

"You don't have to walk me to the gate," Yukine's voice was already strained for the morning filled with complaint. Each step of the way, Yato had tried to be as annoying as possible with Hiyori barely lagging behind in frustrating behavior.

"Just today," Yato repeated for the eighth time at least. He couldn't tell Yukine it was his need to reassure himself of the younger boy's location and ultimately his safety. Even with the utter quiet of this neighborhood, the fright was still churning in his gut, his eyes scanning for faces he knew he couldn't possibly see. "And Hiyori will pick you up."

Yukine stopped, turning on his heels to shout at Yato. "I'm not a toddler!"

Yato sighed in reply, steadying his hands on Yukine's shoulders. "It's not that, Yukine, come on. I know you're not a kid and I know you can walk home just fine but we're…" Yukine shrugged his hands off his shoulders. "Look, we're scared. Big, sissy, first-time parents watching their totally capable kid go off and have a life. So just humor us for today, OK?"

Yukine's big amber eyes stared at him unblinking, hands jammed into his pockets. He let out a long, aching sigh before turning his back to Yato. "Today. Only today or I swear-"

"Today," Yato ran over his words and prodded him in the back, willing him another step forward. This thankfully ended the argument for the rest of the walk and Yato made sure to put just enough space between them to keep from spurring any additional grumbling from the younger boy. He stopped right at the gate, letting Yukine take the rest of the steps without him. "Have fun."

Yukine threw up a nonchalant hand over his shoulder, not bothering to look back at Yato. His eyes were set on someone else, the boy standing at the entrance, a tentative smile on his face. Yukine felt compelled to run, to turn tail and forget that this place even existed, but Yato was still standing at the gate, blocking any possible exit. He decided not to engage, to keep his head down and barrel through the day.

"Hey," the voice forced Yukine's eyes up and even as he tried to force his step he found himself slowing.

"Hi."

The brunette boy extended a hand, "I saw you, right? At the doctor. I'm Suzuha."

"Yukine." He hesitated by slowly raising a shaking hand, offering nothing much but a quick touch.

Suzuha's smile reminded him of Hiyori's, the way it settled so easily across his face. "It's the first time I've seen you at school."

"Just moved here," Yukine grumbled. He had to take a step, put some distance between him and this new boy but as soon as his feet started the movement, Suzuha continued with him, keeping his pace.

"Nobody ever really moves here," Suzuha sighed. "Not exactly the busiest town. Your dad a fisherman or something?"

"Half-brother." Yukine managed to throw his head over his shoulder just to catch the last glimpse of Yato before entering the building. "His wife inherited the house." God, how he wished Yato hadn't decided on that stupid lie. It was more believable that he could be Hiyori's half brother, not that big idiot, but they were stuck with this story since that's the one Mr. Abe got and rule one is keeping your story straight.

"How old's your brother?" Suzuha had a healthy amount of skepticism, a shock from the rest of the village that just seemed to take Yato's luck at face value.

"Twenty. Hiyori, his wife, is rich though, so nobody had to die for them to get the house." Yukine tried to shrug off the rest of Suzuha's wonder. "And now I'm stuck here with the lovebirds."

Suzuha laughed. "What about your parents, aren't they…?" But he let the question drift off before clearing his throat. "Sorry, probably shouldn't ask."

Yukine let that be the last word, especially since Suzuha shouldn't, because Suzuha wouldn't get any truthful answers and all of this would be a lie. Sure, Yukine would get pity, probably even a friendship, but never anything real. It was the thing he envied the most about Yato and Hiyori, not their love, their closeness, but the freedom from lies, the right to live authentic lives with each other.

"Uh, what class are you in?" Suzuha finally broke through the hazy silence, trying not to notice the way Yukine had tumbled off into his own head.

Yukine glanced absently at the paper before bringing his eyes back to Suzuha. It was off-putting, the way those dark eyes actually seemed to shine at him. "1A."

"That's my class, I'll show you."

At this point it seemed inescapable, but wasn't it fitting? Friendships are always formed over mutual insanity it seemed. That's all Yukine was ever going to get.


End file.
